


taylir gar tracyn - (hold your fire)

by iye



Series: hettyc ka'ra - (burning stars) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Banter, Bickering, Bisexual Poe Dameron, Character Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Mandalorian Appreciation (Star Wars), Mandalorian Culture, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Multi, POV Poe, Pining, Poe Dameron is good with children, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, They just don't get along at first, Torture, Violence, When I say 'Slow Burn' I mean 'SLOW BURN', Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 107,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iye/pseuds/iye
Summary: General Organa pairs her best pilot with a Mandalorian for his next mission.And they don't seem to get along.At first.✦✦✦
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Mandalorian Character, Poe Dameron/Original Character(s), Poe Dameron/Original Female Character(s)
Series: hettyc ka'ra - (burning stars) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819918
Comments: 51
Kudos: 119





	1. Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hi! This is the first fic I've decided to actually publish for other people. I struggle to judge how good my own work is, so feel free to leave a comment if you think it can be improved in some way.
> 
> Anyway, just a few points:  
>  \- This is set roughly a year before the events of TFA  
>  \- The title is in Mando'a which is the language of the Mandalorians
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> _Edit 20/5: working on this is the best thing, I can really see my writing skills improving already. Give this fic a chance :) I promise it gets better._

***

Poe had screwed up.

The day before, he'd been fiddling with Black One's engine without the fleet technician. Something he wasn't quite allowed to do. And he'd ripped out the wrong component. So now, smeared in grease and covered in sweat, he was desperately fixing it before it came to the tech's attention. BB-8 was also with him, trying to help out.

He despised an I-told-you-so situation when _he_ wasn't the one saying it.

Snap was across the path, similarly working on his own starfighter. But _he_ hadn't done anything wrong. No, the fleet technician trusted _Snap_.

He was so focused on the task at hand, that when his little droid purposely crashed into his leg, Poe turned on him in a fury, about to dish out a scolding.

However, anything he’d been about to say was interrupted by BB-8 swivelling himself sideways to point out a figure heading towards them. For a second he thought it was his technician.

“Dameron!”

It was Kaydel Connix. As she jogged towards him, she tripped over a stray wire trailing from a power-unit. Poe struggled to fight back a smile as he heard Snap snort behind him.

‘Collected-Kaydel’, not so collected after all.

The thought forced a grin out of him.

Some new recruit had come up with the childish nickname for the General's aide and it had ended up sticking, and promptly spreading around the base.

Kaydel scowled, seeing him watching her approach. 

“The General sent me to come and find you,” she snapped. “Apparently, you’re forgetting something?”

His grin disappeared.

_Shit._

“Did you really forget another meeting?” Snap called from across the path.

Poe shot an annoyed look at his friend.

“They really should demote you,” Snap continued, blind to Poe's obvious irritation.

“Well,” Poe yelled back, “at least I’ve never sh-”

“Quit it you two,” Kaydel said, disrupting whatever dirt Poe had been about to spill. “You need to be at the General’s workstation twenty minutes ago.”

She turned away dismissively, heading back to where she’d appeared from.

“Yeah! Get moving nerve-burner,” Snap said, clearly delighted with the situation.

Poe just flipped him off as he desperately shed his bulky tool belt onto the gravel under him. BB-8 trilled questioningly as Poe began to run towards the underground admin sector.

“No buddy, you stay here with Snap. I’ll see you after dinner!” he called over his shoulder.

He frantically made his way to General Organa’s workstation, dodging people, stumbling down stairs and hurdling the occasional crate, swearing under his breath the whole time.

By the time he reached, he was out of breath. He burst into the workstation with a jumble of excuses. 

“Sorry General! I forgot about this, I was with Snap- I mean Temmin, it’s really kinda his fault I’m late, he’s very, uh...” 

Poe trailed off as he took in his general’s exasperated but entertained expression, before noticing another figure in the room. 

He shuffled his feet, frowning, suddenly self-conscious of his sweaty, grease-stained appearance.

“Commander Dameron, I’m sure your friends have told you that you’re not a good liar?” 

Not waiting for the indignant response that was about to come, she continued.

“This is Commander Avara Deccol,” she said, gesturing to the unknown figure. 

Poe reluctantly shifted his attention to the newcomer.

“She has recently joined the Resistance as a weapons expert and spy.”

Deccol nodded curtly and Poe returned the gesture stiffly. 

Sharp eyes, dark-ish skin. Her short, curly hair was flat against her head as if she’d been wearing a cap or helmet. It reminded him of his own hair whenever he pulled off his own flight helmet. She was wearing a scuffed piece of armour with some skeletal symbol carved in the metal, on her right shoulder. 

Deccol was observing him as carefully as he was her. Her face was expressionless as she watched him. Posture was perfect, almost like a soldier standing at attention. Poe got the impression that’s how she always held herself. Her hand rested on her hip- no, not her hip.

It was rested on an empty holster, where a blaster would be.

Intimidating.

At least she was shorter than him. Way shorter.

The top of her head would have barely reached his chin. Thank the Maker.

This was a sore point for him, due to his squadron’s incessant teasing. He was _not_ short, no matter what they liked to say.

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his dirty orange flight-suit and pursed his lips very slightly, trying to appear unbothered as he held Deccol's unflinching gaze.

As he continued to scrutinise the new commander with his keen eyes, General Organa had turned to address Deccol. “Commander Dameron here is my best pilot. That’s why I picked him as your partner for the mission.”

“Mission?” Poe asked, focus instantly shifting to Leia, bothered he didn’t know what was going on. And that the newcomer clearly did. 

“What mission?”

“Slow down, Poe. You’re needed for this mission because incredibly swift piloting will be required. Avara, you have been picked because I trust Maz Katana’s instincts. If Maz believes that a person is right for a specific job, then they are. Plus, she said you were one of the best kriffing shots she had ever seen. Her words. Good marksmanship is always valued.”

Poe frowned.

Beside him, the new commander ducked her head slightly at the praise.

“Your mission,” Leia continued, “will consist of several tasks. I cannot stress how important they will be to the downfall of the First Order. These tasks will include intelligence collection and assassinations. Avara, that’s where you come in.” 

His eyebrows raised.

She didn't really look like the typical assassin.

But then he'd never met one before, so...

“It’ll be mostly First Order officials, as many as our agents can locate. Poe, before you ask, yes. BB-8 may join you. It’ll be a long mission.”

He couldn’t help grinning at his General as she gave him a knowing look, eyes twinkling.

Leia always knew what he was thinking. Whether it was because she was capable in the Force, or just because he'd grown up knowing her, he didn't know.

The general walked behind her desk, fetching something from a drawer. A holoprojector. She passed it to Deccol, who examined it, squinting closely, flipping it several times in her hands.

“It’s been altered," the newbie said slowly. "For long-distance transmissions?” 

Deccol held it out to Poe without looking at him. He almost snatched it from her, fuming. 

He’d barely known her a minute and she was already the most infuriating person he knew. And she wasn’t even trying. Was that even possible?

“Yes, and to be undetectable. This is how you two will be receiving your tasks. Only _after_ you leave the base, will you get your first mission. This is, naturally, to preserve confidentiality.”

Both commanders nodded seriously. This, they understood.

“You two don’t know each other, but I expect you both to be _smart enough_ to know you have to work together.”

Leia looked at Poe. 

“No petty squabbling or fighting.” 

Poe internally rolled his eyes at the undeniable pointedness of the statement. He would have done it externally, but Leia would bite his head off if he tried. He knew by experience.

“You two will be leaving tomorrow at sundown. Poe, as the pilot, you’ll be picking a ship suitable for you both, but most importantly, suitable for the mission.”

Leia looked from Poe to Deccol, just studying them for a second.

“Commander Deccol, my assistant, Kaydel, will show you to the mess hall. It’s almost dinner,” Leia said. “You can go, I’ll meet you tomorrow.”

Both commanders turned to the door.

“Poe, wait. I want a word.”

Poe waited until Deccol had disappeared from view, speaking quickly before Leia could. 

“Am I really just going to be the _pilot_ for this mission?” he snapped, throwing up an irritated hand.

“Poe,” she sighed, “listen. Deccol is new to the Resistance, whereas you are not. She has not done this sort of thing before. You know how we operate, I expect you to show her our way. However, you will be respectful.”

So, the usual lecture.

“I know what you can be like if you’re not particularly keen on someone. Unfortunately, I get the feeling Avara is like that too,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead for a second. “She is prideful and definitely not the sort of person to ignore an insult. You both are experts in your own fields and you will listen to each other. She’s a ‘Fire’ and instead of picking a ‘Water’ as her partner, I’m picking another ‘Fire’. I’m taking a risk picking you as her counterpart and I need to know you will not let me down. I’m trusting you, Poe.”

Poe pursed his lips at the spiel, still miffed. 

“I- I’ll try, bu-” he cut off, seeing Leia narrow her eyes. 

He held down a groan, glaring at the ceiling for a second, resigned.

“I won’t let you down, General,” he corrected. “I promise.”

“Good.”

She turned away to her desk.

“Now, go make a new friend,” Leia finished teasingly over her shoulder.

Poe huffed. “Why do you always talk to me like I’m still a kid?”

“Well, you haven’t yet proved you’re one hundred per cent adult yet, Poe. After all, you ran in here thirty minutes late and the first thing you did was try to blame your delayed arrival on poor Wexley.”

He pursed his lips, trying to hide a grin.

“It wasn't thirty minutes, it was twenty.”

“Twenty-five.”

Poe smirked. 

“A five-minute improvement from last time then,” he said, turning for the door.

Something smacked against the back of his head. He whipped around, to see Leia still had her back turned to him. 

“Did you just-” He paused. “Who's the kid now?”

“Still you, Dameron.”

He left the room before he was subjected to any more scathing comments, trying to ignore the fondness creeping up his chest as the bell for dinner chimed.

Kriffing Force.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to see someone made it through the first chapter without baulking lol.  
> Let me know what you think :)
> 
> Much love,  
> \- Iye
> 
> _Edit: to any new readers who see this message;_  
>  Don't worry about holding yourself back from commenting just because this is a completed fic and I'm already on the next one. Comment all you want! I love hearing from people and I see and reply to pretty much all comments :)


	2. Friction

***

He was heading to his quarters, struggling against the stream of people flowing in the direction of the mess, when he spotted two familiar faces in the crowd. 

Snap and Karé Kun, another pilot in his squadron. He wriggled through the mass of people to reach them. 

“Hey, I’m heading to my refresher, would y-” 

“Yeah good,” Karé cut in, “You need to. No one wants you stinking up the mess hall while everyone is trying to eat.” 

Snap wrinkled his nose for further effect and Poe rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I was trying to ask if you’d save me a plate of food.”

“Of course, what else are friends for, right?” Snap said with mock consideration. 

Poe just grinned, shaking his head slightly. 

“Thanks, buddy.” 

He was about to squirm away through the crowd when another thought crept into his head. 

“Oh wait, I need you to do something. There’s a new face on base today, one of the intimidating types. She’s got hair kinda like mine and she, uh, she wears this shoulder armour, pauldron thing. If you can, try to sit with her.”

“Oooh,” crooned Snap, “has Poe got a new crush?”

Poe shoved him, ignoring an unexpected twist of his stomach.

“No, kriff off. I was called to the General’s station today because I’ll be on a mission with the newbie. I’ll explain that later. Just…” he faltered, searching for the right words. “Just scout her out.” 

He shrugged noncommittally. 

“Y'know, see what she’s like. You're not the best reconnaissance flier for nothing, right? Just get me some intel!” Poe yelled finally, over his shoulder as he walked off. “That is what you’re most useful for after all.” 

Smirking to himself at the victory against Snap, he slithered through the horde of people, the sound of Karé's laughter blending into the background.

***

When Poe reached the mess hall after his (much-needed) shower, he automatically glanced towards the Black Squadron’s usual corner table to find it empty. 

Yells, accompanied by some arm waving from Snap and two other pilots, Jessika and Iolo, alerted him to his group sitting at the far side of the hall.

He sauntered over, running his fingers through his hair.

He wasn’t nervous.

As he approached the table he scanned it. Iolo, Jess, Snap, Karé… and Commander Deccol. So they did manage to find her. Neat. 

Nodding at the group, he settled down on the empty stool left for him, with his plate in front. Funnily enough, it was directly opposite Deccol. Jess’ doing for sure. He uncovered the plate and dug in, and the conversation that his arrival had interrupted, restarted.

“So what made you join the Resistance?” Jess asked, leaning over the table.

“I haven’t really joined long term, this is more of a one-off job for me. I sympathise with the cause, I’ve seen what the Empire did, and the First Order is that all over again. So when I heard the Resistance needed someone like me, I came. Plus, it pays well.”

“So you’re just here for the money?”

It slipped out of Poe’s mouth before he could stop it. 

The air around the table thickened and Jess and Snap groaned softly while Karé pinched the bridge of her nose. Iolo bit his lip to hide a nervous smile.

Deccol looked up slowly to meet his gaze with her own, tilting her head at him challengingly.

“My family, my people, need as much help as they can get." 

She spoke softly, but the anger in her voice was evident. 

“I left them, to look for work. To earn for them.”

Jess dug her elbow into Poe’s side, interrupting him as he leaned forward, about to sneer back.

“Your people?” asked Karé, her voice gentle, trying to clear the hostile atmosphere. “Where are you from?”

The fire burning in Deccol’s eyes diminished as she shifted from Poe to Karé.

“I think Nevarro. That’s where I spent my early years. But my home is Mandalore.” 

Suddenly all eyes were on her. 

Even Poe who'd been sullenly staring at his plate.

“You're a Mandalorian? I’d heard stories, I thought they were all dead,” Snap said, awed.

Poe hated the fact he was suddenly interested in Deccol’s story. 

Just because she was a part of a fabled warrior culture, supposedly as skilled as the Jedi.

“Nope, there’s still a few of us. Just scattered around the galaxy. Imperial rule wasn’t kind to the culture. We were, and are, a threat to them. We’re rebuilding, but it's hard with a junta like the Order in the galaxy.”

“And that,” said Iolo, pointing at the pauldron on Deccol’s shoulder. “That’s Mandalorian, right? Mandalorian steel? I’ve heard of it before, but it’s so rare.”

“Yeah, it’s Beskar."

Snap shot Poe an impressed look, flicking his eyebrows suggestively.

Great. He was the only one there, who didn't like her.

He forced himself to tune out for the rest of the conversation, focusing on his food instead, feigning disinterest. When he finished his meal a few minutes later, he scooped up his plate and stomped over to the row of sonics against the back wall, still simmering.

He wasn’t surprised when Jess appeared next to him, silently washing her plate as if he wasn’t there. He lasted about five seconds before he burst.

“Oh for kriff’s sake!” he snapped. “Say it already! Tell me I’m being an idiot and that I’m being unnecessarily rude.”

She turned to him, her half-washed plate lying discarded in the basin.

“You’re being an idiot and you’re being unnecessarily rude.”

He scoffed. “Very funny.”

“Poe, this is serious. Snap and Karé said you’re going on a mission with her. You won't survive with this destructive friction between you. You’ll get yourself killed. You need to work _with_ her.”

“That’s what the General said,” he mumbled, his anger fading.

“And, as we know, the General is always right. If you can’t get along with Avara, you need to back out of this mission.”

“I can’t do that! The General needs me to-”

“Organa would rather you drop out than receive the news that you're dead, all because she took a risk.”

Poe fell silent, staring at the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists.

She was right. He just had to suck it up and try to keep his mouth shut.

He could do that. For Leia.

“I’m not going to drop out of the mission,” he declared softly, looking his best friend in the eye.

“I was never expecting you too,” Jess said, amused. “You’re too stubborn. If you do end up getting killed, it’s going to be because you’re saving the Mando’s ass, trying to prove you’re better than her.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up. 

“Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment, wise-ass,” she retorted, swatting the back of his head. 

***

He stayed mostly silent throughout the rest of the dinner, but now in a better mood. 

His friends had watched him carefully as he’d sat back down, relieved he was no longer smouldering. 

Deccol was still civil with the other pilots, but also quiet, just watching. 

  
  


When it had been time to leave, Poe stretched as he stood, straining his arms over his head with a huge yawn that was instantly caught by Snap and Jess. The latter punched him for it.

“Every time, Dameron,” grumbled Jess, mid-yawn. “Every damn time.”

***

As the group of pilots, plus the one Mando, strolled towards their barracks, he found himself trailing behind, lost in thought over his to-be partner.

Leia just had to get this hot shot Mandalorian assassin for the mission. Couldn’t it have been someone he would instantly get along with? 

Just his luck.

He jumped when someone bumped his shoulder. Karé.

“Hey, Poe. So… you wanna tell me what this is about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be difficult, Poe. This is why some people don’t like you.”

He turned to her pretending to be shocked. 

“What? Who doesn’t like me?”

She laughed and he smiled down at her, his laugh lines deepening as he properly relaxed in her company. 

He could never stay angry when Karé was around.

“No but seriously. What’s so bad about her? Did she do something?”

He pursed his lips.

“No,” he sighed reluctantly. “She didn’t do anything,” 

Karé was quiet for a second before turning to him. 

“I’m gonna ask you something, a serious question and you’re gonna answer seriously. No laughing.”

“Go on.”

“Do you like her? As in, do you have a crush on her?”

Poe laughed. Hard. 

She was kidding, right?

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” she groaned, shoving him.

“I never said that. And _no_! I don’t! What am I? A kriffing teenager?” he snorted, lowering his voice. “I don’t get crushes.”

“That’s another argument we need to have but whatever,” she huffed. “Just apologise to her. I’m gonna tell Snap to brief you tomorrow.”

“Brief me? What?”

“You asked him to gather intel right,” she said grinning. “Well, he did.”

Poe rolled his eyes.

“That idiot either does too little or too much. No in-between for him.”

“Hey! Don’t talk dirty about my boyfriend.”

What?

He turned on her with a yelp. 

She was trying to keep a straight face.

“ _Boyfriend_?!” 

The group in front turned at the sound of his shriek, and Karé almost collapsed in a sudden burst of laughter.

“SNAP!” 

Poe screamed at the pilots ahead. 

“Get your ass over here!” 

Jess and Iolo cracked up, grabbing each other for support as Snap jogged towards Poe, grinning widely. 

Deccol looked a bit puzzled but Poe wasn’t paying attention to her.

“You idiot! We’ve been together a week and you didn’t notice!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whined pathetically, punching Snap’s shoulder.

They all just continued to laugh, not bothering to answer. 

He doubled over with a moan, his palms pressed to his eyes for a second.

“You’re all asses!”

They laughed harder. 

He straightened, pursing his lips and shaking his head in mock anger, stalking towards their barracks. 

Iolo pounced on him as he tried to walk past, dragging him to a halt.

“No, no wait! We-” 

Iolo’s words were lost in more cackling.

“What Iolo’s trying to say,” Jess begun, somehow controlling herself, “is that we were betting on whether or not you’d find out by the time a week had gone by.”

Deccol had started to smile, catching on to what was happening.

They- they what?

“You were betting? On _me_?” He paused, blinking. “Who won?”

“Honestly, all of us. Your reaction is the prize we all just received,” Jess managed to say before snorting back into laughter.

“ _You_ ,” Poe growled, pointing at Jess threateningly, “you shut up. Who won?”

“Me and Jess, obviously,” called Karé. “The boys are oblivious to _your_ obliviousness.”

“Do I get a cut? How many credits did you earn? I deserve some!”

“They just got a hundred and fifty credits. Each,” said Iolo, suddenly forlorn.

Poe couldn’t help himself. 

Starting to smile, he pointed at Karé. 

“I better be getting some of those credits!”

***

The friends, plus the Mando, somehow made it to the pilot’s block of sleeping quarters, still breathless with giggles. 

As a Commander, Poe had a bottom floor room, with his friends on the floor above, as they were lieutenants. 

They peeled away from Poe to head upstairs, leaving him standing there, grinning and shaking his head up at them as they trooped off with the usual raucous hoots. 

Leaving him with Deccol. 

Kriff. Now wasn’t this awkward?

“What room are you?” she asked, scuffing her boots against the gravel.

Was she… nervous? 

“I, uh, I’m in eight. You?”

“Three.”

Poe nodded and jerked his head. “This way.”

She fell in step with him as they strolled to the far side of the block.

Nervous energy was building up in him, making him restless.

Time really could _not_ go faster, could it? 

He ran his fingers through his hair again. 

Twelve more rooms to walk past. Eleven more. Ten. Ni- 

Damn it! All he had to do was _talk_ to her! How hard could it be?

“I was-”

“Did I-”

They both froze.

Both of them starting to speak at the exact same time? More likely than one would think. 

Caught off guard like him, Deccol spoke first. 

“Uh, please, you first.”

“I was, uh, I was out of line at dinner today,” he began slowly, forcing himself to look her in the eye.

Her gaze was piercing as she turned to him when they stopped walking to face each other.

“I’m sorry. I guess I was in a bad mood or something.”

She nodded. 

“I- I understand. We just... need to be able to work together.”

He snorted. 

“Y’know you’re the third person to tell me that today?”

She smiled slightly. 

“It’s because I’m right.”

“No one likes a know-it-all.”

“Why do I feel like people also say that to you?” she retorted, lifting her chin challengingly.

He narrowed his eyes at her and she didn't smile, but her eyes seemed to spark at him playfully.

They turned to continue walking, Poe feeling much lighter.

“I’ll see you at breakfast then? Is it in the same hall as dinner?”

“Yep. There’s a base-wide alarm that sounds to wake everyone up, and then the second alarm signals first-meal.”

“Convenient. See you there,” she said with a nod.

He returned it with a slight smile and watched her walk the last few steps to her room as he unlocked his door.

Maybe this would work after all.

The instant he stepped into his room, his little white and orange droid began zooming circles around his legs in greeting.

“Hey, Beebs. Boy have I got some stuff to tell you.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter, especially the end with Black Squadron :D We love an oblivious Poe, don't we?
> 
> (Kudos to anyone who can see who this Commander Deccol could be *wink*)


	3. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe hates packing bags.

***

Poe was woken up by a string of unrelenting beeps from his BB unit. He groaned.

“Has the alarm even gone yet? Let me sleep ‘til the alarm goes off.”

He stayed where he was, eyes beginning to droop shut when the familiar alarm blared through the barrack speakers. 

Instantly, BB-8 rolled away from his charging port to intentionally crash into Poe’s bunk.

“Beebs!” 

Poe hauled himself upright with a heavy sigh, sitting on the edge of his cot and blinking blearily. 

His little droid was peering up at him.

“Mornin’ buddy,” he drawled through a yawn. 

BB-8 hummed before chirping excitedly. 

“Well, you’ll see her when we're about to leave. Unless you come to first-meal. Why are you so excited to meet her?”

BB whirred, jostling his body back and forth. 

Poe frowned.

“I didn’t mean to make her sound really cool. Is that really how it appeared?”

The droid just warbled affirmatively. 

Poe sighed again. 

Perfect.

“Just remind me of the stuff I need to pack after first-meal ok?”

He stood and stretched before shaking his head violently in the mirror, inspecting his hair. 

His usual routine of getting dressed was hastened by BB-8 bumping repeatedly against the door in his annoying but successful attempt to make Poe hurry up. 

“Alright, alright! Let’s go,” he said nudging the little droid with the side of his foot to get past him. 

He stepped out and instantly collided with Karé.

“Sorry,” he grunted. 

She just huffed, amused.

“Watch where you’re going, flyboy. I was just heading to get Avara.”

She strode over to room three and knocked. 

No reply. 

“She’s probably already gone with the others. C’mon, we’re late.”

“Late? The second bell hasn’t gone yet." He blinked. "Has it?”

Karé rolled her eyes. “I guess it rang while you were washing your precious hair.”

“ _Funny_.”

They jogged towards the mess hall, BB-8 bumbling after them. The pilots were sitting at the usual corner table this time, along with a crowd.

Probably there because he was off on a mission. Or, they were there to meet Deccol. Word travels fast in a tightly knit base like this.

He pursed his lips.

Who wouldn’t want to meet a Mandalorian? 

Heads turned towards him as they walked through the rows of tables. Nods, waves and murmurs of ‘good luck’ and ‘be safe,’ followed him and Karé as they reached their table. 

A loud cheer rose from the pilots gathered as they spotted him, and he grinned, feeling his face flush warmly at the attention.

  
  


He was stuck in the swarm of about fifteen of his rowdy pilots for at least twenty minutes, all of them wanting to say farewell and wish him luck. 

Even BB-8 got a round of pats.

Iolo eventually came to the rescue, no doubt sent by Karé.

“Sorry guys, but this guy needs his big breakfast and his caf, or you know what he’s like during the day. We wouldn’t want to inflict grumpy-Poe on his new partner now, would we?”

After a smatter of laughter, a few more hair ruffles and back slaps, the group moved on, leaving the table to the usuals.

Poe turned to Iolo.

“Since when am I grumpy?” he asked indignantly as he tried to fix his messed up hair.

“Listen up my friend,” said Iolo, mockingly wise as he threw an arm over Poe’s shoulders. “Poe Dameron is thirty per cent recklessness, twenty-five per cent stupidity and twenty per cent cockiness.”

“You missed out twenty-five per cent.”

“That’s the grumpy part.” 

Poe punched him as they sat down at the table. 

Deccol was already there, tucking into her meal. She nodded in greeting, her mouth full. 

That’s when BB-8 decided to announce himself. He trilled loudly at Deccol’s side and she turned to look down at him, confused. 

“Avara, you don’t know binary, do you?” Jess asked.

Deccol shook her head.

The astromech moaned, upset.

“Well, that’s BeeBee-Eight. He’s Poe’s son,” said Karé.

BB-8 moved to nudge his master’s leg affectionately as Poe rolled his eyes at Karé’s description.

“He’s my astromech droid,” he corrected. “The best one there is,” he added fondly.

“He’s the one coming with us, isn’t he?”

“Yep. You’ll learn how to understand him in time, it’s not hard.”

“So,” began Snap, disrupting the conversation about BB-8, “how much about this mission can you tell us? When will you be back?”

Poe looked around at his friends, all leaning towards him, watching seriously, worry etched in their faces. 

His heart swelled in sudden affection for them and he sighed sadly.

“I don’t know. We have tasks to complete,” he said looking to Deccol, “and we don’t know how many. Leia just said they’re important.”

And dangerous.

He swallowed nervously.

“You’ll make it back. You always do,” assured Jess. Poe just nodded, his throat tight. Karé and Snap exchanged a worried look.

“Now eat! Don’t let us ruin your appetite.”

Poe smiled and ducked his head down to obey the order, his stomach loosening slightly.

Deccol had just observed the whole interaction without a word.

***

Poe was pacing his quarters, almost tearing his hair out.

“No, no! Beebs, it’s something _else_! Damn it… what am I forgetting?”

He was packing his carry-bag.

“You’d think this would be straight-forward,” he growled, kicking a box aside grumpily as he scanned the stuff thrown around his room.

He knew he was forgetting something so obvious he would kick himself when he remembered it.

“Clothes, toiletries, my jacket,” he began chanting, sticking out one finger with each. “Credits, my datapad, my shaving knife, my holster, my tools… What else?”

Everything he had listed out was already in his bag.

He and Deccol were due to leave in under half an hour. And he was still here, holed up in his quarters, fussing about what to pack, things strewn around in his haste to find what was needed.

A sharp knock sounded on the door. BB-8 darted towards it, bumping over Poe’s various belongings.

“No Beebs, _wait_ -” he cried, lunging for the droid.

BB-8 opened the door before he could be stopped. 

To reveal Deccol. 

Shit. Damn it, Bee. 

“Dameron, are you-”

She took in Poe, stumbling over a discarded shirt in his haste to stop his little droid and instantly averted her gaze, looking pointedly away from him. 

It took him a second to realise why. 

He leaned down and whipped the shirt up, the ring on the chain around his neck whacking against his forehead with the movement. He pulled it over his head, pink dusting his cheeks. He thought he could detect a slight colour change on her face too.

“Uh, sorry. BeeBee is always a bit hasty when opening my door.”

“Yeah, I- uh- I heard through the door.” 

Poe blushed more, fingers running through his hair as BB yipped gleefully. Poe glared at him.

“So I take it you’re not ready to go?”

“I will be,” he sighed. “I just hate packing. Nothing unusual.”

“I could help?” she offered.

He was about to give a haughty reply of how he didn’t need her help to pack a bag when BB-8 hummed appreciatively. 

A split second before Poe could open his mouth. 

The droid stretched out his small claw to grab a leather jacket on the floor and drag it to Deccol's feet. She bent over to take it, smiling at his droid.

“I think you need this.”

Poe swiped it from her grasp and shrugged it on, embarrassed.

“Well, what have you got packed so far?”

He listed it out reluctantly.

She frowned. 

“Aren’t you carrying any weapons?”

It was time to kick himself.

“Shit! That’s right!” 

He darted over to his closet, kneeling down to open the lowest drawer, pulling out his blaster pistol and a knife. “I mean we do get issued the standard rifles, but everyone prefers to carry their own stuff for missions.” 

“Makes sense.”

Poe glanced over his shoulder.

She was leaning against the door frame, watching as BB-8 rolled back and forth, desperately trying to sort his scattered belongings. Her armour was shining with the sunlight that shone from behind her and she had a bemused smile on her face. 

Poe almost found the corners of his mouth beginning to lift at the sight of it, before mentally slapping himself.

Bad idea. He already looked like an idiot, better not to make it worse.

He dumped his blaster and knife into his bag and buckled it shut, hoisting it over his shoulder.

“BeeBee, did you go scan those freighters at the end of the strip, like I asked you to? Did you find a good one?”

BB-8 chirped affirmatively.

“We’re using a freighter? What model?”

“You familiar with the Ghtroc Seven-Twenty light freighter? I figured that would be suitable for us. The Resistance has a couple of old ones lying around, so I sent BeeBee to scan the ship systems to make sure we took the best one.”

“It does sound familiar. A small freighter should be good.”

They stepped outside, Poe taking a last glance at his room before locking the door. 

He was going to miss the place. 

It was always familiarity that he missed.

Deccol picked up a long, unusual looking rifle and slung the strap over her shoulder, before picking up a small bag and a helmet with the famous T-shaped visor that she tucked under her arm.

Poe took this chance to get a better look at the extra armour she had on. 

A chest plate, two thigh guards, one shin guard and she had a second shoulder pauldron on. 

“Isn’t it a bit early to get all suited up?”

BB-8 whirred ahead of them, leading the way to their ship enthusiastically.

“It’s easier to wear it than carry it.”

“That’s true I guess. It must be a hassle to wear so much all the time though.”

“At the start it was,” she countered, “but I’m used to it now.”

BB-8 was rolling back towards them beeping loudly, interrupting their semi-small talk. He looped around the partners before barrelling off in front again, still beeping.

Poe chuckled.

“According to Beebs, we need to hurry up.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm realising that I struggle to write long chapters, so I think I can help that by posting two in a shorter time interval.  
> I hope this is enjoyable enough so far. Things get more interesting soon.
> 
> Come follow my main Star Wars blog @triggerhappyflyboyy if you're on Tumblr!


	4. Ember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission begins.

***

When Poe caught sight of Snap waiting near his black and orange X-Wing, he dropped his bag and darted to it, running his hands affectionately along its hull.

“I figured you’d stop by her to say goodbye,” said Snap.

“I couldn’t not,” mumbled Poe, leaning against his bird, suddenly downcast.

“Oh, _buddy_.” 

Snap stepped in and gathered Poe up in a hug.

Poe’s eyes began to sting as he felt Snap rub his back, so he buried his face into Snap’s orange fly-suit.

***

Snap, Poe and Deccol were silent as they continued to the ship. 

As they approached, Poe picked out Leia, Kaydel and his remaining friends in the distance. 

BB-8 was already there, looking up at Leia. They seemed to be having a conversation. 

Deccol parted from Snap and Poe, walking to circle the ship, inspecting it. 

Poe drifted over to Leia.

“Hey, General. Come to wave goodbye to your knight in shining armour?” he teased lightly.

“ _You’re_ not the one in shining armour here, Poe,” she retorted deftly. “Kaydel? Would you brief Poe on the arrangements?”

“Yes, General. The ship has been stored with a fake ship’s manifest that should be enough to dispel any local suspicion on reasons for landing. It’s also been stripped of any identifying marks and its record has been cleaned off the holonet system. If you run into trouble, it won’t be caused by the ship.” 

Nice way of saying if anything goes wrong, it was solely their fault.

The General then handed over the altered holoprojector that she’d had shown them the previous day. 

Deccol, having finished her inspection, was walking up to join them.

“You will receive a message including a target or an objective with a location on this. Don’t lose it.” The two commanders nodded, glancing at each other, understanding the importance.

“Avara, with your history of bounty hunting, I’m sure locating targets won’t be especially hard.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised. Mandalorians did have a strong reputation in the bounty hunting business.

“Also,” said Kaydel, “Enough rations are aboard for three weeks. It's an old ship but everything is in working order. Resistance standard-issue blaster rifles have already been placed on board but they’re not exactly conspicuous so I suggest not openly using them everywhere.”

Obviously. 

“Yep, noted.”

“On the topic of being conspicuous, Avara, that sniper rifle of yours. Weapons that atomise are rare and will draw eyes,” Leia cautioned. “If you can alter it to shoot less powerful blaster shots, that may be wise for some missions.”

Learning that Deccol’s rifle could _atomise_ made Poe shift nervously.

“Yes, General,” Deccol replied, dipping her head.

“And one more thing. Come back safe. That's the most important thing to me,” the General stressed, an anxious glint in her eyes.

“Of course, General.”

“Good luck.”

She was worried. That was never a good sign. It took a lot for Leia to get worried.

“Safe travels,” said Kaydel. “It’ll be weird not having to chase you down because you’ve forgotten something.”

Poe grinned at her sheepishly, then turned to face his friends.

Without any words, they all wrapped their arms around him in a big group hug. 

Someone was sniffling. Karé.

Then all together, they loosened their arms and let him shuffle away towards the ramp. 

Deccol walked over to say goodbye to the pilots, gripping their hands and sharing words. Karé, naturally, leaned in for a hug.

“Bring us presents!” called Jessika as the two partners walked up the ship ramp. 

Poe grinned and nodded as Karé slapped Jess’ arm. Iolo laughed with Snap, whose arms were around his girlfriend. 

He still couldn’t believe they’re dating.

“Commander Deccol?” Leia spoke. “ _Ret’urcye mhi_.”

Deccol straightened and nodded with a small smile on her face. 

She turned and walked past Poe, up the lowered ramp. 

He followed, clenching his jaw as his chest panged unhappily. 

***

Their freighter had two decks, an upper and lower. The lowered ramp they entered the ship through, was directly under the cockpit and led to the lower deck where a second ramp led to the upper. 

The moment the ramp shut behind them on D’Qar, Poe darted into the crew berth on the right and dropped his bag down, claiming the room as his.

BB-8 beeped at him before rolling off to explore the rest of the lower deck while Poe clambered up the steeper second ramp to begin takeoff procedures in the cockpit.

The ship was old. Scratches, scrapes and dents littered the floor and walls.

He wondered who this ship had belonged to before. They certainly hadn’t taken much care of it. 

Just as he’d thought it, something on the wall next to the pilot’s chair caught his eye. An inscription had been scratched into the metal surface. He leaned in closer to take a look, brushing his fingers over the scratches. 

Aurebesh lettering. _The Fifth Ember_. 

There was also a circular symbol engraved there too, but Poe didn’t recognise it. It had spikes around it, like a sun.

There was a thump behind him and he jumped, startled, whipping around to see Deccol lounging in the co-pilot’s chair behind him.

“You’re quite jumpy,” she drawled, amused. 

Her boot was against the wall.

She really kicked the wall just to startle him.

Poe scowled. 

“It’s not my fault you’re so quiet.”

“No, it’s not,” she said, smirking. “But I think I’ll keep it up.”

Poe just gave her a withering glance. 

The light of the setting sun through the viewport caught on her armour, setting her alight in a fiery glow, forcing him to squint and look away from the brightness.

“What were you looking at?”

“Someone has scratched something in there. It says ‘ _The Fifth Ember_ ’. The ship’s name maybe?”

She got up to take a closer look, nudging him aside with her elbow.

“Do you recognise that symbol?” Poe asked, slipping into the pilot’s chair to start the take-off.

“You don’t? I’ve seen it before. It’s a crime syndicate,” she replied, looking over at him. “The Black Sun. They used to be a huge issue for the New Republic many years ago, but they’ve disappeared a bit recently. I think they even operated during the time of the Old Republic.”

“Huh. You reckon it’ll be a problem that we’re using their ship?”

The Ember lurched upwards and Deccol moved back to the chair on his right and stretched out comfortably.

“Doubt it. If anything, we’ll be a bit less conspicuous. I think the First Order and the Black Sun were allies at some point. And if so, this would be a familiar ship model to the Order.”

“That’ll certainly be a help.”

***

They had barely left D’Qar’s atmosphere when the holoprojector began beeping. 

Deccol, sitting in the co-pilot seat next to him, pulled it out to observe. 

Poe glanced over.

“Well?”

“It’s a human on Naboo, the city of Theed. Luc Shinn. Possible First Order connections.”

“Ok, let’s go. Beebs? Coordinates for Naboo?” Poe asked his little droid.

BB-8 beeped methodically and Poe punched in each number into the ship interface.

He reached up, flicking a couple of switches before leaning in and gripping the largest lever on the dashboard. 

“Good luck to us. I guess,” he said to Deccol, who just flicked her eyebrows in reply, a gritty glint in her eyes.

Pushing the lever forward to ease the Ember into hyperspace, they watched as the stars turned to white smears.

“It’ll be about five hours. If you want to sleep, now is a good time.”

She turned to look at him with a scoff. 

“I was sleeping barely six hours ago. I’m not tired. You can go to sleep. I can wake you up in three hours.”

He rolled his eyes to himself as he turned away.

“BeeBee-Eight can wake me up, thanks.” 

The droid whirred, agreeing. 

“I’m never one to turn down extra rest. See you in three hours, Deccol.”

“Dameron.”

***

His berth wasn’t very big, but it wasn't as small as it could've been.

An armchair, a bunk, a wardrobe and a desk. Deccol’s room was right across from his, probably with the same amenities.

The refresher was just a few paces away, and the ship’s kitchen was right next to their cabins. 

Poe sighed and sat down on his bunk heavily. 

This ship was dreary. So grey and dull. 

He glared at the bag he’d dumped on the floor. 

Packing and unpacking was just the worst.

He groaned silently as he dragged himself to his feet to dump the contents of his bag into the wardrobe. 

A small holoprojector tumbled out and he smiled at the sight of it. Picking it up, he placed it on the small ledge next to his bunk and switched it on. 

A hologram of his best friends flickered on. 

Wide smiles, bright faces, all with their arms around each other, wearing their New Republic uniforms. 

Before they’d joined the Resistance. Before their eyes had been opened. They had been so naive back then.

Karé, Jess, Iolo, Poe and… and Muran.

A lump grew in Poe’s throat at the sight of Muran. 

What would he say if he saw Poe now? 

Probably something like ‘you deserted the New Republic? What were you thinking!?’ 

Poe could almost hear Muran’s shriek in his head and a grin had begun to spread on his face before it disappeared with another thought. 

He had been thinking of Muran.

He kicked off his boots, shrugged off his jacket and slid onto his bed, disappearing into sleep.

***

It was a repeated thumping against his bunk that woke him up.

“Beebs? How long have I been out?” he moaned, blinking blearily, rolling over to face his astromech. 

He got a warble from the little ball in reply. 

“Four and a half? I told you to wake me up in three!” He drew himself up. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

BB-8 just hummed as he rolled himself out of Poe’s room.

“Of course she told you to let me sleep longer,” he snarled out loud, standing up to stretch before grumpily stomping over to the ‘fresher.

“She _would_ go over my head like that, wouldn’t she-”

He froze, words cutting off abruptly. 

Deccol was sitting at the kitchen table. Right outside. 

Her weird rifle was in pieces in front of her, her hands frozen in some action. She'd obviously heard his outburst. 

Just his luck. 

They glared at each other. 

Deccol’s eyes were glinting dangerously, so Poe decided to silently continue to the refresher, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling.

She was going to kill him in his sleep, he just knew it. 

When Poe was done in the ‘fresher, he came out feeling a bit foolish. He ambled to the kitchen pantry, next to the table Deccol was at. 

She didn’t look up at him, continuing to fiddle with her rifle.

Unable to bear the silence, Poe forced himself to speak.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, grabbing a ration bar from the cooler.

“Yep.”

More silence. 

He hesitated, then plonked himself down, directly opposite her, shifting around to get comfortable. 

She paused in her work, her hands stilling as she drew in a frustrated breath.

“Do you have to sit _there_?” she snapped, clearly annoyed.

“You ever been to Naboo?” he replied, swiftly ignoring her question.

She looked up at him furiously, but he held her sharp gaze, trying not to look away.

“Well, _have_ you? I’m not trying to start anything, I’m actually curious,” he said, trying to sound sincere. 

It must’ve worked because after a few seconds she sighed and continued working on her rifle.

“No, never been. Heard it’s nice though.”

“It is. It’s real pretty.”

Deccol glanced up. 

“You’ve been?”

“No, not me. My mother. She was Leia’s- I mean General Organa’s pilot for a mission to Naboo, not long after the Battle of Endor.”

Deccol raised her head from her work, surprised.

“Your mother was a Rebel pilot?” She frowned as he nodded. 

“I don’t know why I’m surprised. Should’ve expected it.”

“My father was a Rebel fighter too,” he said, trying to contain his pride. “Not a pilot though.”

She met his gaze, curiously fascinated. “And now you are too.”

He smiled and began to rip his ration bar packet.

“Yep,” he quipped, tossing a piece of the tasteless bar into his mouth, then grimacing as he chewed. 

“Maker, I forgot how shitty these things are.”

“They’re not too bad. You’re just fussy.”

“Am not. I just appreciate good food.”

“Well, on the topic of good food, we Mandalorians have the best.”

“Nope, Yavin Four has the best cuisine.”

“Doubt it,” she said disbelievingly. 

Before he could leap to defend his small moon, she continued.

“Yavin Four? That’s where you’re from?”

“Yeah. I was born there.”

She nodded thoughtfully. 

“It is a nice moon. Very green. I like green places.”

“You’ve been to Yavin Four?”

“I’ve been to a lot of planets,” she answered amicably.

“What’s your least favourite?”

“Coruscant,” she muttered, her nose wrinkling slightly in disgust

He laughed and took another bite of his bar. 

“Of all the places to hate, you hate the galaxy’s capital?”

“It’s a terrible place,” she said, suddenly intense. “Dirty, polluted, filled with _chakaare_ \- criminals, and the people they exploit. It’s a sad planet.”

“That’s fair I guess. That word, is it Mandalorian for criminals?”

“Yeah, sort of. Mando’a is the language.”

“Can you speak it fluently?”

She shrugged. 

“Well enough.”

She shifted her focus back to her work as Poe finished the last few mouthfuls, still grimacing at its dull taste.

“BeeBee-Eight,” she said, turning to look at the droid, “do you think there would be any blaster solvent on board?” 

BB-8 beeped, happy she asked him for help and zoomed off.

“He’s sweet,” she commented, nodding in the direction the droid had disappeared in.

Poe smiled proudly to himself as BB-8 spun back in with a container and a dirty looking rag extended in his claw.

“Thank you, Bee.”

BB-8 hummed, thrilled.

He was never gonna tell her that Beebs idolised her.

“What are you doing with it?” he asked, gesturing at the weapon.

“The Xciter needed checking, and I reduced its power as the General suggested. But now I’m just cleaning it,” she said, dabbing the rag into the container before rubbing it onto one of the rifle parts.

“It’s an old weapon and powerful. If it’s not looked after well, it could get risky to use.”

“Leia said it can atomise? Aren’t weapons like that banned?”

Some amusement sparked in her eyes as she glanced up at him, confirming his thoughts.

“It was my father’s. He’d had it for a long time before I came along. One of his favourite weapons.”

“And he gave it to you?”

She hesitated, a sly grin slipping onto her face.

“I took it.”

Poe huffed, smirking as BB-8 suddenly trilled loudly.

He nodded and translated for Deccol. 

“He’s saying we’ll be out of hyperspace in five minutes. I should go up.”

“Right. I’ll be up soon.”

He scooted off the bench and strolled up the ramp to the cockpit.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> Ret’urcye mhi - Goodbye (literally means 'Maybe we'll meet again')  
> Chakaare - petty criminal (plural)
> 
> Next chapter should be up in a few days, It's already written.  
> Don’t forget to drop a kudo if you’re enjoying this :)) thank you!


	5. Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Day 1 on Naboo

***

Poe was guiding the Ember into Naboo’s atmosphere when a loud thud sounded behind, startling him. 

He whirled around in his chair to see Deccol grinning and he scowled heavily.

“ _Really_!?”

“I told you, I like startling people.”

“Not while I’m _piloting_ , thanks!”

She slumped into the chair next to him, still smiling to herself.

“Where should we land? Somewhere outside the city, right?”

“Um, no,” she began, frowning slightly. “We should set down _in_ the city. In a landing bay. This ship won’t draw many eyes, so a city bay would be more convenient.”

“Yes, but is it safer?”

“It’ll be fine. I know how to deal with cities. If we land on the outskirts, it’ll look as if we don’t want to be noticed.”

“And… we _don’t_ want to be noticed,” he countered, knowing he was aggravating her. “So where’s the harm?”

She turned her chair to face him, obviously getting bothered. 

“But we don’t want them to _know_ that do we? The best way to hide is to blend in. A city landing bay will do that.”

Poe smirked and Deccol just gave him a sharp look.

“You were doing that on purpose. Arguing just to argue. Just to be annoying.”

She shook her head as he continued to grin. 

“This is going to be a long mission,” came a sigh.

***

Theed was beautiful. 

Deccol and Poe leaned into the viewports to see the city below as they flew over smoothly. 

Cream-coloured stone buildings, with tall pillars and arches, topped with blue domes. The warm glow from the street-lights turned the roads and paths gold. The setting sun had cast the west-facing sides of the buildings into pink and red and the rest into darkness. Arched bridges littered Theed’s winding rivers.

In the distance, rolling plains of grass surrounded the city.

“It really is beautiful.”

Deccol just hummed in reply, still absorbed in the view. 

A beeping noise sounded from the dashboard.

“We’re being hailed by city landing services,” said Poe shifting to press the flashing button.

“ _Hailing the Ghtroc Seven-Twenty, please proceed to Landing Dock E, Pad 3. The south side of the city._ ”

“Pad E3, copy that.”

The landing was swift and hardly a jolt was felt as Poe directed the Ember down. 

Deccol disappeared to her cabin to change and Poe sauntered down the freshly lowered ramp to meet the dock officer waiting below, BB-8 at his heels.

Naboo’s cool air was a sharp contrast to D’Qar’s humid climate and he sucked in a breath, filling his lungs, enjoying the sight of the river on the other side of the landing pad. 

The smartly uniformed dock-officer was approaching.

“Hi there!” 

“Hello, sir,” she replied, “may I have your ship’s manifest please?”

“Of course. BeeBee?”

BB-8 whirred and extended the Ember’s projector chip in his claw.

“Any other crew or passengers?” the officer asked, taking the chip and slotting into her datapad to read.

“Just my co-pilot.”

Though Deccol wasn't really his co-pilot.

Poe waited for a few seconds, until the officer looked up with a polite smile, tugging the chip out from her datapad to hand back to BB-8.

“You’re all good to proceed. Payment for the use of the landing pad can be organised up in that building there,” she said pointing towards a building across the river. “Enjoy your time here.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, one last thing,” the officer called just as he was turning away. “Blasters are not permitted in public,” she said, pointing to his empty holster.

“Oh, alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Poe strolled back to the ramp, only to find Deccol coming down. She had changed, removing all her armour and was just wearing a simple black shirt on black pants and a dark grey scarf tied around her neck. Her blaster was tucked into her holster at her hip.

“All fine?” she asked peering at the departing dock officer.

“Yep. No blasters allowed in public though.” He gestured at her gun. “Ok, so what's the plan then?”

She jerked her head behind her. 

“We should talk inside.”

They ended up outside the kitchen to discuss, Poe leaning back against his cabin door and Deccol standing in front of hers.

He got the feeling she always stood so straight because everyone was taller than her.

He had to hold back an amused smile at the thought.

“Tonight, we should just go out and find out what we can about this Luc Shinn guy. If we even can. If we get enough information, tomorrow the mission can be completed and we can be out of here.”

Poe frowned.

“Don’t you want to spend more than just a day here? I mean, it’s so nice. We’ll also have extra time to plan.”

“This is an assignment, not a holiday, Dameron,” she said, exasperated. “We need to do these tasks as quickly as we can.”

He sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, fine. It just seems like a nice place.”

“Hmm. It does seem nice,” she admitted, nodding. “So, ready to head out? I’ll just go remove my holster.”

“Same, one sec.”

He turned, ducking into his room to quickly discard his holster and grab his commlink. 

“Ok, let’s go.”

***

About fifteen minutes later, Poe was leaning against a light pole on a street corner as he waited for Deccol. BB-8, the poor thing, had been left behind on the _Ember_. 

Deccol was just across the street, talking with a couple of locals about where to find the best cantina in town.

It was a known fact that if you want to know who people are and what’s happening in the area, a cantina was where to go. All information just seemed to flow through bars.

He glanced down the street. Not many people about, the occasional loiterer or the groups of people who were out for a late evening stroll. 

The sky was dark blue now, just a hint of an orange glow to the west. 

“ _Hey_!” 

He turned at the call. 

It was a man who had just come around the corner. He was swaying on his feet and he had a slight leer on his face as he stumbled towards Poe.

He stiffened, suddenly uncomfortable as the man neared. He was just reaching out to roughly grab Poe’s arm as he backed away, when Deccol appeared next to him, seemingly out of nowhere. 

She firmly stepped in between Poe and the drunk man, lightly shoving him away.

“Is there a problem here?” she snarled as she squared her feet.

The man scowled and backed off, mumbling incoherently as he stumbled away from them, down the street.

“C’mon let's go. There’s a cantina down that path and-”

“I can take care of myself y’know,” he snapped, annoyed at the pang of relief he’d felt when she’d intervened.

“I never said you couldn’t. Now let’s go.”

She turned, walking toward the path she’d pointed out. 

Poe followed, pursing his lips.

The cantina was bustling with people. One long and crowded serving counter expanded across the back wall with human and droids serving the various people their drinks. 

Dialects from all across the galaxy could be heard, in shouts and whispers alike. The lighting was dim, and the air was hot and muggy due to the crowd.

“Seems like travellers _and_ locals come here regularly,” Poe muttered, leaning down into Deccol’s ear.

“Good for us. We’ll blend in,” she whispered back. “Drink?”

“Obviously. I’ll get them. What’ll you have?”

“Ask if they have _tihaar_. If not just get me one of whatever you have.”

Tee-har? 

“I don’t know what that is, but I’ll ask.”

She nodded her thanks and he slipped through the mass of people to reach a gap at the countertop, raising a hand to catch the attention of a drink-droid.

“Hello, sir, what will you be served today?”

“One bottle of Elba beer and do you have a drink called tee-har?”

“It appears we do,” the droid replied after a second of computing. “It is a Mandalorian beverage, if my memory banks are correct.”

It clunked off to fetch the drinks and Poe turned his attention to the people in his surroundings.

A trickle of music from a group of musicians in the far corner of the cantina accompanied by a low beat was encouraging some to dance sensually with drinks in hand. Two Twi’leks were getting very friendly against a wall and Poe couldn’t help smirking at the sight, watching for a second before a sharp noise drew his attention to the other side of the cantina. 

An argument appeared to be taking place between a Keshian and a member of a species he didn't recognise. Increasing in volume with both almost shouting, until the Keshian received a slap, followed by the furious exit of the slapper. 

Poe huffed a laugh, wondering what they did to get that. 

The Keshian glared around the room furiously, as if daring anyone to say something and ended up locking eyes with a grinning Poe. 

The smile was hastily wiped off his face as he turned back to the counter, trying to avoid any trouble.

“Sir.” 

The drink-droid had returned. 

“Here are your drinks.”

It handed over the familiar-looking bottle of Elba beer along with a small glass of a clear liquid.

“Thanks,” he said, handing over credits.

Holding the drinks, he turned on his heel peering through the crowd to search for his partner. 

There she was. She was standing near the band, deep in conversation with two locals.

Spotting him hovering a few paces away, she waved him over.

“They had it,” he said, holding up her drink.

She smiled, delighted. 

“Thank you.”

He took a sip of his and she took a large gulp of hers with a satisfied sigh, before introducing him to the men she’d been talking with.

“This is my friend, Snap,” she said, gesturing to Poe. 

Snap? Huh. 

Poe nodded politely in greeting. 

“And this is Jaeto and Enri,” she continued. “They’re brothers who tell me they used to work at a nearby plasma mine. However, they don’t anymore, as it’s been bought by a new owner who seemed to have also brought in his own workers.”

Poe looked to the two brothers in surprise.

“An entire mine was just bought? Must be wealthy,” he remarked sipping his beer.

“Yeah. All of us workers were put out of our jobs,” said Enri. “Apparently this guy has influence in the Galactic Senate. Must’ve been able to pull some strings or something, because that sort of thing never usually happens on Naboo.”

“Yeah, rumour has it he’s a big shot in the First Order,” Jaeto added in a low voice.

Poe and Deccol exchanged a look. 

“Oh? That’s not the best news. I always get uneasy when I hear about them,” supplied Poe, trying to ease into the conversation.

The brothers nodded enthusiastically in agreement. 

“They're a nasty piece of work that’s for sure,” muttered Jaeto.

“This new mine owner, is he from Naboo?” 

“He is, actually. From one of the wealthier families in Theed. House Shinn. Although I don’t know why we still call it a family. The parents are dead, it’s really just him now.”

Poe struggled to keep his face neutral. 

There he is. Time to hunt down a First Order plasma miner.

“Is plasma mining the biggest industry on Naboo?”

“It is, after all, the planet is pretty much made of the stuff. And it’s used all over the galaxy too, so it’s not just important for Naboo.”

“What is it used for, most commonly?”

“It can power weaponry and transport, mostly.”

Both very important things for the First Order.

Poe suddenly grabbed Deccol’s arm in an attempt to look urgent.

“Oh, Maker! We said we’d meet Jess five minutes ago. She’ll be upset that we’re late!”

Deccol caught on quickly.

“Oh, kriff, you’re right!” She turned to Jaeto and Enri. “I’m so sorry, I forgot we had a place to be.”

“Oh, no worries. It was nice to meet you,” said Jaeto, and Enri nodded in agreement.

“You too, I hope the job search goes well for you,” said Poe as he and Deccol backed away.

“Goodbye!”

Deccol gulped the last mouthful of her drink before setting the glass down on an empty table they walked past. Poe elbowed her triumphantly, chuckling before swallowing more of his beer as they walked through the cantina’s doors. 

She looked up at him with a smirk.

“Done well,” he said.

She nodded.

“That was way quicker than I expected. Things like that usually take a long time. Now let’s go meet _Jess_.”

He grinned.

“Do you know the way back?”

“Of course I do.”

They walked by a river for a part of the way before turning down an alleyway. 

Halfway through, Deccol stiffened.

“We’re being followed,” she muttered out the side of her mouth.

“You sure?”

Two figures appeared on the path in front. 

Deccol stopped moving, pulling Poe to an abrupt halt with a hand on his wrist. He glanced over his shoulder.

Two behind them as well.

He swallowed nervously. 

Now was really not the time to get jumped.

He slid a small knife out of his pocket, gripping it tightly in his right hand, the blade pointing downwards, opposite from his thumb.

Deccol pulled out a vibro-blade from under her left sleeve and another from her right boot. Automatically they shifted, standing back-to-back.

“What are you looking for?” Deccol called, voice level.

“Oh, nothing in particular,” came a reply from a shadowed face. “Maybe some credits. Those vibro-knives look good. I have one just like them.”

“You’re not getting anything without a fight,” Poe said, surprised with how calm he sounded.

“ _Fine by us_.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translation:  
> Tihaar - a strong, clear alcoholic spirit made from fruits [I kinda think it's similar to vodka or tequila]
> 
> Next chapter will up in a couple of days as usual :)


	6. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 1 on Naboo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May the Fourth be with you!

***

The men Poe was facing moved without warning. 

Deccol must have been facing a similar situation as he felt her abruptly shift behind him.

Stepping forward and ducking a right hook, he struck out at the man’s lower torso with his right fist. His blade slashed through fabric and skin, followed by a forceful left punch to the same place. 

The man stumbled back with a cry and Poe felt a twinge of vicious satisfaction. But it didn't last long. 

The second guy lunged at him, throwing him into the cobbled ground, the knife flying out of his hand. He landed flat on his back, the breath pushed sharply out of his lungs with the impact. 

Automatically he flipped himself over, pushing himself onto all fours to stand back up, but his arm was kicked out from under him and he collapsed back into the cobbles.

As Poe struggled to gasp for air, the thug dragged him onto his back to pin him down and aimed a heavy punch into the side of Poe’s face, followed by another. And another. 

Was this really how he was gonna go out? Getting _mugged_. What a way to go.

Still gasping for breath, Poe weakly raised an arm to block the fourth punch, but the man was dragged off, away from him before the fist landed. 

Rolling onto his side, his lungs finally deciding to restart, hacking coughs erupting from his chest. Heaving air he slowly drew himself back up onto all fours.

“Dameron?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t do anything other than continue gasping. 

As he grasped his chest in a slight panic, Deccol slipped under his shoulder. She stood up, pulling him to his feet with an arm around his waist.

Dazed from the forceful punches, the ground swung under him as he tried to balance. Deccol pulled him closer and he gripped her shoulder to steady himself. 

“Hey, you’re just winded. Just focus on breathing, I’ll get us moving out of here.” 

"Are- are you-"

“I’m ok. Don’t worry.”

He brought his free hand to his chest as they began to hurry down the alley, leaning heavily on her. Deccol almost had to drag him at some points when he stumbled. 

The suffocating panic of not being able to breathe was finally wearing off as their ship came into view. 

Seeing the _Ember_ in the distance, Deccol slowed down to a walk and looked up at Poe from under his arm. The pressure of her hand against his hip was comforting.

“Hey, you better? I hate getting winded. It used to happen to me all the time during my training 'cause I'm small, but I’ve learned how to lessen the chances of it happening since then. I can show you how...” 

She was rambling, but he appreciated it, choosing to focus on her voice instead of the pain he felt in his back with every step they took. By the time they reached the ship his breathing was thankfully back to normal. 

Suddenly self-conscious he stepped away from her.

“I- I can walk. Thank you.”

She just nodded and nudged him towards the already lowering ramp. BB-8 must’ve seen them approaching on the ship sensors. 

Sure enough, the little droid came rolling down the ramp, beeping excitedly, until he took in their appearance, looking from Poe to Deccol with sharp movements of his head. 

Then with a moan, BB turned and barrelled back up the ramp.

He didn’t look that bad… did he?

As Poe followed his droid, treading stiffly up the slope, he felt Deccol hovering close behind him, as if worried he might fall. 

He made it to the kitchen without any problem, BB-8 closing the ramp behind them. 

Sitting down slowly on the bench he realised his droid must have hastily dragged the med-kit into the gallery, as it was just lying randomly on the floor. 

In the bright white lighting, he finally looked at Deccol properly.

Her shirt had a long tear down the shoulder, the sleeve split to her elbow. A patch of skin on the left side of her jaw seemed badly scraped, oozing blood, along with a bruise on her left cheekbone. 

There was blood on her hands, but remembering she had had vibro-blades, it seemed likely most of the blood wasn't hers. 

Other than that, she didn’t seem hurt or injured.

She grabbed the pack BB-8 had left on the ground and hauled it up onto the kitchen table. BB-8 was at the gallery entry, beeping worriedly. 

“We’re fine buddy, nothing to worry about,” Poe said, trying to console the droid.

“I’ve never met a droid who would get worried over it’s master,” Deccol mumbled, as she rustled through the med-kit. 

Poe smiled at that but ended up wincing as his face started to burn at the movement.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m the same as you, just not winded.” 

She sounded a bit hoarse.

“How bad do I look?”

Finding what she had been looking for in the kit, she turned to look at him, a slight glimmer of amusement on her face.

“How you _look_ isn’t important, Dameron.”

“Speak for yourself. How do I look?”

"You're alright."

BB-8 whirred from next to Poe and he raised his eyebrows, pointing at the droid.

"See? Beebs said I'm handsome."

Rolling her eyes, she ripped open some packet.

"Why do I feel like you've taught him to say that?"

"Shut up."

Deccol shook her head with a sigh but he could see a tiny smile on her face. She moved to press something against his face. 

And instantly his face was burning.

He jerked away with a sharp cry before gasping at the pain in his ribs. 

“Some _warning_ would be nice!”

“It’s to clean the damage! Just hold still, I'll be gentle.”

Gripping the side of his head more firmly this time, she carefully pressed and dabbed the wet pad of cloth on his face. 

His cheekbone and temple began to sting fiercely again and he froze in place, clenching his jaw, with his eyelids fluttering shut. His back twinged in protest as he stiffened again. 

After a few seconds of agony, she gingerly pulled away and chucked the cloth towards the disposal panel.

Taking his chin and turning his head to see the side of his face clearly, his cheeks began to burn again. 

But this time in a different way. 

"Your hands are cold."

It slipped out of his mouth before he could think.

A corner of her mouth twitched and she withdrew her hand.

"Sorry."

"No, it's fine. Soothing."

Again, before he could stop himself. Is _one_ bottle of beer really getting to him?

The other corner of her mouth shifted to match the first and her twinkling eyes flicked up to meet his, just for a split second. 

Did she always have those green flecks in her eyes?

Then she turned back to the med-kit for her own wipe to drag along her own jaw and cheekbone. 

Her face contorted at the sting he knew she was feeling. 

Suddenly, he glanced down and realised his small droid was leaning into his calf, silently looking up. 

Poe reached out and placed his hand on the droid’s head, fondly running his thumb along a ridge.

“Here,” said Deccol, handing him a bacta-wipe.

He began dabbing it against his face as Deccol walked into the ‘fresher. 

She came back out a few seconds later to hand him a wet towel before disappearing again.

He started rubbing the towel over his own dirty knuckles, cleaning off the dark blood.

“So, buddy, did anything happen here while we were out?”

BB-8 hummed, giving him a negative answer and then trilled.

“Well, we found out who this Shinn guy is and now it should be easy enough to track him down. He supposedly has ties to the Order and he owns a plasma mine, not far from the city.”

BB-8 wobbled from side-to-side excitedly.

“You think we could get him at the mine itself?" Deccol called from the refresher before coming out. "It's better than getting him in the middle of the city,” 

“Yeah, it would be…”

He trailed off at the sight of her neck. 

Where he could see faint red finger marks. 

No wonder she sounded raspy.

“That doesn’t look too good,” he murmured, frowning.

“Neither does your face,” she said with a wry grin. 

When he didn’t stop looking concerned she softened. 

“Oh, don’t worry. There’s no serious damage. I’ve had worse,” she said gently.

“Worse? That doesn’t make me feel better.” 

She blinked. 

"I guess it wouldn't. I've been told my bedside-manner is shit."

After a moment of hesitation, curiosity got the best of him.

“What is the worst you’ve had?”

She sighed as she pulled two ration bars out of the nearby cupboard and handed him one. Settling down on the bench next to him, they began to eat their bars.

“Well, probably when I ended up being shot. Here,” she said, tapping herself next to her sternum, under her collar bone, “and here,” she finished, moving her hand directly down, to point under her ribs.

“Wouldn’t your armour have protected you?”

“I wasn’t wearing any,” she muttered, gaze fixed on her bar.

He raised his eyebrows as he side-eyed her.

“Go on.”

She looked at him, confused. 

“What do you mean ‘go on’?”

“Well, I’m curious now. How did it happen?”

Deccol stiffened as if the question had burned. 

And Poe suddenly realised he’d crossed a line he hadn’t known had existed. 

“Hey, wait, I-”

“We should be getting some rest,” she said curtly, expression shuttered. Her jaw was clenched.

She stood up, avoiding his eye, walking to her cabin door. Her half-eaten ration bar was twisting slightly in her fist. 

“Bee, would you please wake me up in 8 hours?”

BB-8 whirred from next to Poe.

“Get some sleep.”

“ _Hey_."

It came out as barely a whisper but she halted in front of her room door at the sound of it. 

“I didn't- I’m sorry.”

The tension in her shoulder seemed to release. 

Just a little. Then she nodded, still not looking at him.

“Good night, Dameron.”

She disappeared, her door sliding shut behind her. Poe sat there for a second, taken aback.

“What could have happened?” he mumbled to himself.

BB-8 yipped scoldingly and Poe looked down with a huff.

“I know, I know. I’m not gonna bother her about it. I wouldn't,” he said, realising he was annoyed at himself for messing up what should've been a simple conversation.

“But, she is right," he muttered, tiredly. "I _should_ get some sleep. C’mon buddy.” 

After taking a shower, taking good care to keep his face out of the spray, he lay in bed, absent-mindedly fiddling with the ring around his neck and staring at the hologram of his friends. 

Staring at Muran. 

And suddenly he understood.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Star Wars day! Because it's a special day I'll be putting up the next chapter within the next 12 hours.
> 
> that last clone wars episode just murdered me. I'd been watching it since I was five and now it's over :(
> 
> [btw, I've written this as accurately as possible to the SW universe with the help of some incredible sources. feel free to leave me a message on @triggerhappyflyboyy on Tumblr if you'd like to see them.]
> 
> Also:  
> What do we think about a chapter (or something) from Deccol's perspective?  
> And if someone has even read this far into the fic, leave a comment cause I have no idea if people are following it.
> 
> Much love, Iye.


	7. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Day 2 on Naboo

***

A sharp knocking startled Poe awake, making his chest hurt as he rolled in his bunk with a groan.

“Kriff off! I’m sleepin'.”

The knocking stopped and there was a pause. 

“ _Dameron_?”

He jerked again, opening his eyes this time. 

_Deccol_? What… Oh. 

He mentally slapped himself. He was on a kriffing mission.

"It's morning!"

“Righ’! Right, sorry. I’m gettin’ up.”

He dragged himself up with another groan, the soreness reminding him of the events of last night. 

He gingerly touched his wounded face and scowled grumpily to himself. 

It would be even more swollen now than it was last night. 

He patted around on his bed, searching for his shirt and tugging it on before opening his door. He recoiled at the sharp white light of the kitchen, putting his hand up to shield his eyes.

Deccol was sitting at the table, where she’d left him last night. She looked tired, her shoulders curved in slightly as she leaned forward against the table. The bruises on her face were darker than the night before like he assumed his own were, the marks on her neck also much more prominent. 

There was a loaf of bread and a large white tub in front of her, on the table. She was spooning something out of it into a smaller bowl for herself.

“Mornin’,” he said, still squinting at the bright glare.

“Hey. Sleep ok?”

“Yeah. I’m really sore though. What’s that?” he asked, knocking a knuckle against the tub and sitting down across from her. It was warm.

“Some type of meat stew. I went out and got some. Those ration bars are nasty.”

“Oh? I seem to remember someone saying that ‘they’re not too bad’,” Poe teased, sticking his jaw out.

“Shut up.”

She nudged a small bowl and spoon towards him. Poe leaned over it to take a big sniff before serving himself.

It didn’t smell very spiced, like a stew on Yavin IV would've been, but it was warm and not a ration bar so he wasn’t going to complain. 

“Kriff, this is some good stuff,” he sighed through a particularly large mouthful.

She nodded in agreement. 

“While I was out, I also managed to find out more about that mine. It’s two hours north of the city by speeder bike. It’s surrounded by hills, so we could land the _Ember_ somewhere closer without being seen,” she suggested, tearing a piece of bread from the loaf. “We’ll have to expect some type of security too. Bee tells me there are a couple of speeder bikes in our cargo hold which could help.”

“Oh?” Poe looked at BB-8 approvingly. “That’s useful. How long were you out for? You seem to have got a lot of fresh information for just a breakfast run.”

“I was out for a few hours. Couldn’t sleep so I took a walk,” she said offhandedly, avoiding his eyes. “The sun-rise was nice.”

Poe narrowed his eyes.

“Deccol, we got jumped just _hours_ ago. And you decided it was a good idea to go out for a midnight stroll? By yourself? That was stupid.”

“It wasn’t midnight,” she snapped. “I was out an hour before sunrise. And I can take care of myself anyway. If I’d gotten into any trouble I would’ve commed you. Plus, I told Bee to wake you up if I didn’t come back in three hours.”

Poe glared at the droid, who dropped his head in shame.

“That doesn’t make it a good idea!”

“Well, I did it. And if I do it again, you won’t be able to stop me anyway. So there isn’t any point in you complaining.”

“Just don’t do it again,” he snapped.

One of her eyebrows lifted, in a ‘watch me’ kinda way.

He was shifting restlessly and there was pain racking up his ribs again but he refused to acknowledge it, scowling at his food.

They continued eating in silence, the air thick with anger.

Why wouldn’t she understand that taking risks like that isn’t a good idea? 

BB-8 cleverly rolled out of the kitchen as quietly as he could. 

Deccol put the entire mission in danger... just for a walk?

She finished her bowl first and left the room after washing it, shutting herself into her cabin.

Her heavier-than-normal footsteps gave Poe a slight feeling of satisfaction. 

Still fuming, he got up to wash his bowl too, before stepping into the ‘fresher.

A few minutes later he was leaning into the mirror, examining his face. It really didn’t look good.

His skin had split over his cheekbone and near the corner of his eyebrow. The skin around his eye was swollen and his cheek was painted in shades of purple and red. 

Luckily for him, the bacta-wipes they had would clear it up in a week's time.

***

She found him an hour later, tinkering with the old speeder bikes in the cargo hold. 

BB-8 was handing him tools as he needed them.

“What are you doing?” 

She spoke suddenly from behind him and he flinched, whipping his head around, once again startled. 

Her face twitched and he could tell she was struggling to keep another amused grin off her face. 

Poe turned his back to her again, his leftover annoyance from breakfast swelling back up.

“Just getting these in good shape,” he replied shortly.

“Need help?”

He’d been about to snap out a grumpy ‘no’ when BB-8 beat him to it and instead invited her closer with a happy sounding hum. 

Poe scowled to himself again.

“I’m guessing Bee said ‘yes’ to help?”

He needed to have words with that droid. That was the second time…

Deccol kneeled next to the bike opposite him, examining the motor.

“That one needs it's repulsors and their placements looked at.”

She just nodded. 

Scooping up a driver and scooting closer, she began to work at it.

Poe could feel the tension between them fading as they worked together in silence for the next hour. The only sounds heard were the occasional request for a tool or beeps from BB-8. 

Finally done with his bike, Poe let the wrench he was holding clatter to the floor. He stood up excruciatingly slowly with a groan, legs stiff due to sitting for so long.

“How’re the ribs?” she asked, looking up at him.

“They’re ok.”

“Here,” she said, frowning at her bike and gesturing at him to come closer. “Look at this. That’s not supposed to be there is it?”

“A repulsor near the ignition chamber?” he scoffed, crouching next to her. “That’s definitely not supposed to be there. Here, let me-”

He scooted closer, nudging her aside to her to get a better view and picked up a small crowbar to wedge the repulsor off. 

“Just grab the thing, hold it steady…”

Deccol wrapped her arms around the body of the bike and held tight as he jammed the repulsor a few times, before levering it with the bar. 

It popped off with a snap and he hummed, satisfied. 

Then he noticed her staring at him, with a slight smirk. 

Her face was just inches away from his, making his stomach twist nervously. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head dismissively. 

But she was still smirking.

“ _What_? Tell me!”

“Nothing, really. It’s just- _no_ , don’t worry.”

She was full-on grinning now, eyes crinkling at the corners as she shifted to stand up. 

He shot out a hand to grab her arm before it got out of reach and jerked her back down roughly. 

She yelped as she lost her balance and fell next to him, her smile growing.

“I’m not letting go until you tell me what,” he growled.

Poe could feel his face growing hot.

“It’s just- well, you had this really dumb look on your face when you were concentrating.” 

She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at the affronted look on his face. 

BB-8 tittered from next to her, also amused. 

He let go and shoved her, turning away, his face once again fully aflame as she tilted her head back to laugh deeply. 

Someone _always_ felt the need to point his concentrating face out, didn’t they?

“You’ve also got grease on your cheek,” she said, reaching out to smudge it off.

He batted her hand away and she snorted with more laughter and he rubbed the back of his hand across his heated face.

“Kriff off.”

She laughed more and mumbled something under her breath and she got up and slipped out of the room.

“ _Copikla_.”

  
  


Poe wondered if she’d meant for him to hear it. 

***

Barely an hour later they were standing over a holograph map Deccol had brought back for BB-8 from her controversial early morning walk. 

It showed Theed and the surrounding land. There were plenty of mines and quarries around the city, most abandoned, but some still in use. 

She jutted her finger into a blue dot north of the city, labelled ‘Wyntey Mine’.

“That’s the one.”

“Ok, so we could land somewhere here,” he followed up, jabbing his own finger below hers, “about twenty klicks south. Then use the bikes for the rest of the way.”

“ _Lek_. We can approach through this forest here,” she said, pointing at a dark patch just east of the mine. “The hills will give us a good vantage point.”

Poe nodded and they looked up at each other.

“Tonight?”

“Yes. We can fly out in four hours.”

***

Deccol had gone out with BB-8 to buy more food and Poe had just paid the docking company after fueling up the Ember from the landing pad supply lines. 

Wondering what to do until his partner got back, he remembered the word she’d said earlier. 

Sitting on the edge of his bunk in his dark room, he browsed around on his datapad. 

Minutes later he was smiling, almost shyly, as he read what he’d found. 

_Mando’a:_ **_copikla [koh-PEEK-lah]_ ** _meaning_ **_charming, endearing, cute_ **

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translation:  
> you know what copikla means :)  
> Lek - Yeah (short for 'elek', meaning yes)
> 
> Anyone watch the new episode of Disney Gallery: The Mandalorian? Its cool to see behind the scenes content.
> 
> Next chapter will be up in a couple of days!


	8. Aflame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 2 on Naboo
> 
> Mission #1

***

Poe had just set the Ember down on a relatively flat part of Naboo’s rolling grass plains, twenty klicks south of the mine, as they’d agreed. 

He flicked the last of the switches to power the ship down and walked down to the lower deck. Slipping into his room to change, wearing a long sleeve dark grey shirt with black combat pants. He buckled his holster around his waist and tucked his blaster in. 

Rolling his sleeves up to his elbow, he stepped out just as Deccol’s door slid open.

She was back in her armour. A bright silver chest plate, accompanied by equally shiny pauldrons, two thigh guards, a shin guard and her vambraces. Her blaster pistol was in a holster at her hip and she also had two ammunition belts on, for the long sniper rifle strapped over her shoulder. One around her thigh under her guard and another diagonally across her chest. Her helmet was tucked under her arm. 

Seeing the symbol on her right pauldron he’d noticed days ago when they had first met, he finally pointed it out.

“What’s that symbol?”

It looked like the skull of some animal that had a large horn.

“It’s my clan signet. My father earned it before I met him. When he adopted me, I adopted his signet.”

“When did he adopt you?”

His restless energy was making him talkative.

“He took me in when I was about eight, but he officially adopted me, as per Mandalorian standards, when I was twelve. C’mon, let’s get the bikes out.”

They walked into the cargo hold where they’d been working on the bikes, BB-8 following.

“Buddy, open the cargo-ramp would you?”

The whirring of the cargo hold ramp accompanied them as they walked the two bikes onto the long, windswept grass below. The sun must have just disappeared behind the horizon as the sky was yellow in the west. 

Poe watched Deccol as she slipped her helmet on. He hadn't seen her wearing it before.

She looked at him from behind her T-shaped visor.

“How’d I look?”

Her voice almost sounded like a growl, modulated by her helmet.

If he hadn’t already known her voice and heard the playful lilt in the question, she might’ve sounded threatening.

“Shiny,” he said with a smirk, before beckoning BB-8. “C’mon buddy. Let’s get you up.”

She helped him heft BB-8 onto the back of Poe’s bike, who promptly shot two grappling cables out of his body to secure himself.

“You got your comm?” she asked.

“I have. You?”

“Yeah, it’s in here,” she said, tapping the temple of her helmet. “The ride should be barely ten minutes.” 

She was about to clamber onto her bike when she paused suddenly. 

“Oh wait, I almost forgot. Here,” Deccol said, leaning over and handing him something.

It was his knife. When did she... 

“I picked it up before I picked _you_ up after the fight last night.”

“You didn’t _pick_ me up, you helped me up. But thank you,” he murmured after a pause.

She just tilted her head in reply. 

Poe straddled his bike and the partners looked at each other.

“Ready?” he asked as he pulled his riding goggles on.

“ _Tsikala_.”

He rolled his eyes and he heard a wry chuckle from her helmet. 

“I’m going to assume that means ‘yes’. Let’s go.”

***

They slowed down as they entered the forest, opting not to switch on their headlights. 

Deccol overtook Poe and he suddenly realised she could probably see better in the low light than he could, with whatever tech her helmet had. 

The ground began to tilt up and they slowed even more, before stopping a minute later and cutting the bike engines. BB-8 rolled off the edge of the bike and thumped down onto the soft earth as Poe and Deccol got off.

“The quarry should be just in that direction,” she muttered pointing further up the hill.

They walked between the trees, hands on their blasters. 

"So how do you carry that rifle?"

He saw the glint of faint moonlight on her armour as she turned to glance at him.

"What?"

"How do you carry it? I mean, it's longer than _you_. Don't you trip?"

There was a puff of static and he guessed she'd sighed.

"This isn't the time, Dameron."

"Oh, come on," he drawled playfully. "No one's shooting at us."

"Maybe they will if you keep talking."

"Have you ever tripped over it before?" 

There was a pause, their light footsteps and BB-8’s whir being the only noise for a long moment.

"Yes," she muttered, exasperated. "I've tripped over it before."

He grinned gleefully.

"You said it was your father's, right? I take it he's taller than you then?"

" _You_ might be taller than me Dameron, but I'm sure my fist could still reach your face," she replied dryly.

BB-8 chirped amusedly and Poe snickered.

After about fifteen minutes of uphill hiking, they came upon the top of their hill. The white glowing outline of the peak made it evident they were just above the mine. 

Deccol unclipped her rifle, swinging it deftly into her arms. 

She must've been clumsy with it before, but from what he could see now, it only seemed natural in her hands.

He just shook his head, still smirking at the thought of her stumbling over the long weapon.

They lowered themselves and crawled forward until they were propped up on their elbows just before the edge of the ground, which dropped into a sharp cliff. Her pauldron was digging into his arm as they lay there, but he didn’t bother moving away.

Against the cliff below them was a large building, it’s rectangular box-like shape didn’t look at all like any of Theed’s gentle architecture. But then they weren’t in Theed at the moment.

On the other side of the building, was the mineshaft. It was a large circular hole, ringed with blinding lights. The diameter of the hole itself must have been just under half the length of a Star Destroyer, but it was hard to tell from their vantage point.

“Look,” Deccol breathed to him, the word sounding like static. She pointed to the right side of the cliff. A half-made structure reached almost thirty meters up. 

“A watchtower. There’s a fully built one there already,” he muttered back, nodding to the left side. “And there’s security manning it too.”

In sync, she pulled a scope from a loop in her belt and Poe pulled out a pair of electrobinoculars, both of them focusing on the left watchtower.

He clicked his tongue as he noticed an unwelcome sight.

“You see it?” 

Again, static-y.

“Oh, yeah. Kriffing stormtroopers.” 

BB-8 rumbled in surprise from Deccol's other side.

They looked at each other seriously. Well, he looked at her visor.

“So this could be considered a First Order outpost,” he mumbled.

She nodded, the lights of the mine shifting over the curved surface of the helmet.

“There’s a tunnel opening there as well,” she said, pointing to the left watchtower. “That must be how people get in and out.”

“We should split up. Walk around the edge to get a better view.”

She nodded again. 

“I’ll go left, near the built watchtower. Comm me if you see anything I should know about. Rendezvous here.”

“Naturally. Beebs, you come with me.”

“Be careful,” she said as they shuffled in their opposite ways, Poe and BB-8 to the right and her to the left. 

The droid quietly bumbled on ahead of him, no doubt looking for any danger before Poe could run into it. He stood up on his feet but kept low as he followed, eyes scanning the area. Not long after, he reached the edge closest to the half-made watchtower and settled down as he had before with Deccol. BB-8 was at his shoulder, still silent. 

Once again, Poe tugged his electro-binocs out to study anything he could see.

“Beebs, I want you keeping a watch on my six.”

BB-8 hummed and Poe heard dry leaves crackling as the droid rolled off. Deccol should have reached her post above her watchtower by now.

Almost on cue, his comm crackled.

“ _Dameron, I’m in position._ ”

“Me too. Don’t forget to watch your back.”

For more than an hour, there was hardly any movement below. The only stormtroopers he’d seen were at Deccol’s watchtower. The sky grew darker and the two visible moons proceeded to their highest position. 

Poe lay there on his chest, only shifting when his ribs began to ache. Occasionally, he would lift the electro-binocs up and scan the area.

Then, something caught his eye. A glow from within the tunnel they’d seen earlier. And it was steadily getting brighter. 

Someone was coming.

“Deccol? Come in.”

“ _Here. What is it?_ ”

“Movement in the tunnel below you. Vehicle approaching.” He waited for it to come into view. “It's a hoverlimo.”

“ _I’ve got movement here too. A squad of troopers just exited the building. They’re forming up._ ”

“Someone important is in that limo. Could be our guy.”

“ _Dameron, be ready to rendezvous. If it is Shinn, we're gonna need to get outta here as fast as possible._ ”

“Copy that.”

He looked over his shoulder with a sharp whisper.

“Beebee?”

His droid emerged from the darkness.

“Everything quiet huh?”

BB-8 beeped affirmatively.

“Good. Head back to rendezvous. Make sure it’s clear.”

Once again, he rolled off quietly.

“Deccol, how’s it looking?”

“ _Someone is taking a really long time to get out of their limo._ ”

Poe chuckled. 

“I’m making my way to rendezvous.”

“ _Copy that._ ”

He scooted back before standing, still staying low and began moving back around the edge. He was halfway to their meeting point when his comm crackled again.

“ _Dameron, it_ is _him_ ,” she hissed urgently. 

Poe dropped onto all fours again, scooting back to the cliff edge and whipped his electrobinocs up to his eyes. 

He could just about recognise Luc Shinn standing in the square in front of the tunnel opening. The man seemed to be addressing the squad of stormtroopers. 

Time to cut the meeting short. 

“Take the shot,” he ordered.

Within seconds, chaos erupted below. 

And Poe ran. 

He pulled out his blaster, holding it as he sprinted, scanning the forest and ignoring the sounds and lights of blaster fire. His ribs were protesting but he kept his focus on the ground in front of him, knowing he wasn’t being shot at. 

He skidded onto his knees in front of BB-8. The droid was jostling back and forth restlessly, watching for Deccol. 

Deccol? Where the hell was she? 

Waiting there, alert and tense with adrenalin, it felt like hours before she came into view. Her sniper-rifle was back over her shoulder and her blaster pistol was in her hand, like Poe. 

Without a word the three of them turned and barreled down the slope, Deccol once again pulling ahead of him. 

The sounds of yelling and blaster fire should have faded as they increased the distance between themselves and the mine, but Poe recoiled violently, ducking his head as a blaster bolt burned into a tree next to him. 

He glanced over his shoulder to return fire as he ran. In front of him, Deccol swung behind a tree, taking cover to shoot back. Poe followed suit, but she yelled over to him.

“Keep going, I’ll cover you!”

He hesitated for a second, before turning and continuing to run.

He followed BB-8 as they continued to the bikes, ignoring the nervous burn in his stomach as he left Deccol behind. 

Preoccupied with worry, he almost ran straight into one of the bikes, BB-8’s shriek stopping him in time. He started both engines, before hauling BB-8 up onto his. Straddling his bike he spoke into his commlink hurriedly.

“Deccol, we’re waiting.”

Her reply was muffled, probably due to her gritting her teeth.

“ _Go_.”

Poe flinched, fear panging in his chest. 

“No kriffing way!” he snarled. “Get here right now.”

There was a pause. 

“ _On my way._ ”

And Poe heaved a shaky sigh. For a moment he thought she’d been injured. 

He gripped a handlebar in front with one hand, his blaster clenched in his other hand. He kept his breathing as even as he could, his foot tapping restlessly.

And finally, BB-8 trilled behind him warningly.

  
Deccol materialised and in seconds they were gone, racing back to the _Ember_ , blaster fire hitting their recently vacated space.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> Tsikala - ready, prepared
> 
> Tell me what you think of the story so far in the comments! I'd love to hear from you guys :)


	9. Smoulder

***

Deccol opened the cargo-hold ramp from a distance with a button on her vambrace, and they drove straight up into the ship, swerving sharply to stop once inside. The ramp was already shut as Poe bolted for the cockpit, Deccol and BB-8 hot on his heels. 

“Watch the scanners,” he muttered as he pulled the ship into a sharp incline, accelerating into the upper levels of the atmosphere of Naboo.

“We’re clear. Nothing is following.”

“We’re only clear in hyperspace.”

Luckily, that’s where they were just seconds later. 

And Poe allowed himself to sag into his chair, the tension evaporating and leaving him exhausted. He sighed as he let his head tip back onto the headrest of the chair.

There was a thin hiss next to him as Deccol pulled her helmet off and they looked at each other.

The helmet had left her hair flat and damp, the dark curls sticking to her forehead.

It made Poe want to lean over and brush his fingers through them. 

Instead, he lifted one finger warningly. 

“Don’t ever do that again.”

“Do what?” 

She sounded spent, like him.

“Give me cover to escape. And then tell me to abandon you.”

Deccol shifted in the co-pilot’s chair to face him with a frown.

“I didn’t tell you to _abandon_ me. I was telling you to keep moving.”

“And what if you’d gotten injured?”

She remained silent and he spoke again.

“Have you _ever_ done a mission with a partner before?”

She paused for a second, formulating an answer.

“My father used to be a bounty hunter. When I was young, I’d go with him to collect bounties. Then when I got older, I did it by myself. For a short while at least,” she added, ruffling a hand through her hair distractedly. 

“It wasn’t satisfying work, but our skills are well suited for it and the pay can be good. I’ve never done a mission like this, one with a partner on equal footing.”

“Well, now you can learn how,” he said.

She rolled her eyes slightly.

Poe looked down at his hands and scoffed. They were trembling.

Deccol grinned next to him. 

“I never thought a pilot’s hands would shake if they got nervous.”

“Oh, I never get nervous when I _fly_. This is from the speeder bikes," he said, and she huffed, her smirk growing wider. 

"Oh, I'm not even kidding," he continued, smiling. "I _hate_ speeder bikes."

She just chuckled, shaking her head.

“What do _you_ normally get after adrenalin?” he asked, jutting his chin at her.

“I get hungry. And tired.”

He blinked. 

“Hmm, I could use some food. Wait, there is food, isn't there? Like not ration bars.”

Her eyes brightened and they both moved for the gallery at the same time, shoving each other aside and sniggering as they automatically turned it into a race. 

How they suddenly had the energy to run for the kitchen, Poe had no idea.

***

“Hey,” Poe said, through his last full mouthful. “We have to send a message to the General saying we completed our mission. Where did you put that holoprojector?”

“Under the dashboard of the cockpit.”

“Oh, nice hiding spot. Beebs, would you do the honours?”

Deccol was slumped onto the table, her head in the crook of her elbow. She had already finished her food, going through a substantial portion in an impressively small time frame. She was probably inches away from falling asleep right there. 

The only thing keeping her awake was a ‘hyperactive-due-to-sleep-deprivation’ Poe Dameron.

The little droid whisked away and returned with the holoprojector in his claw.

“Thanks, buddy. Hey, Deccol, don’t sleep yet.”

He reached over and shook her shoulder to which she tilted her head to glare at him from one eye. A normal-Poe definitely would have backed off and let her sleep. But hyper-Poe was _not_ having it.

“C’mon, wake up.”

He thought for a second. 

“I don’t know how to send them the message,” he lied.

“Liar.”

He grinned, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table as he searched for something else to get her attention. 

“Oh! Guess what?” 

He paused for her to say ‘what?’ but she didn’t so he ploughed ahead. 

“After we finished fixing up the bikes earlier and you laughed at me, I heard you say _copikla_.”

Deccol lifted her head. Despite the tired red eyes, she looked visibly startled.

“Yeah,” he said, still grinning. “I have sharp ears. But anyway, I searched it up.”

Poe leaned in for effect, raising his eyebrows. 

“You called me cute.”

She just blinked slowly and sighed, before dumping her head back down on the table.

“I guess your reaction would be different if you weren’t half asleep,” he muttered, pursing his lips.

She didn’t reply. 

He eyed her helmet which was on the table next to her.

“Can I try your helmet on?”

“Your head is too big.” 

She looked up. “Literally and figuratively.” 

She returned her head to its previous position.

Poe just sighed and began entering the passcode to send a signal back to D’Qar through the holoprojector.

“I wonder how soon we’ll get our next mission. Where do you think it’ll be?”

No reply. 

He sighed again.

“Ok fine, let’s get you to bed.”

“I can get m’self to bed.”

He scoffed, standing up to scoot to her side of the table. 

“I kinda doubt that.”

He tugged her arm and she lifted her head and slowly began to stand, swaying lightly. 

So he grabbed her upper arm with one hand and held her waist with the other to keep her upright as she trudged the few steps to her cabin. He let her go at the door, watching her trod over to sit heavily on her bed.

“G’night Dameron,” she mumbled through a yawn, blinking at him blearily.

“Sleep well.” 

He backed away from her door and it slid shut as his own mouth pulled into a yawn. He smiled to himself. 

***

Poe woke up a few hours later, with BB-8 repeatedly thumping the edge of his bed.

“Maker! BeeBee? What are you doing?”

BB-8 warbled.

“It’s beeping? That means we have our next target. Is Deccol awake?”

The droid shook his head.

“Ok, you go get the holoprojector, I’ll get her up.”

Beebs rumbled out of the room hurriedly and Poe got up, stretching, making his chest ache. 

He slid his partner's door open and shuffled in, edging toward her bed, suddenly uncertain as to how to wake her up.

“Deccol? Hey.” 

He reached down hesitantly, to shake her shoulder. His fingers had barely brushed it when she jerked awake with a sharp gasp. Poe jumped back, startled.

“ _Ke'pare_!”

He could see the whites of her eyes in the darkness.

“Huh? Dameron?” 

Her voice shook slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, it's just me," he said softly, frowning. "BeeBee just woke me up. He's saying we’ve got our next target.”

She sat up and they just stared at each other for a second. Her breaths seemed to be slowing.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I- I think I was in the middle of a dream... or something. Next target you said?”

BB-8 appeared at the door with an excited beep as Poe nodded, still concerned about her violent rousing.

“Let’s see what we got then.”

They sat down at the table and Poe took the holoprojector from his droid. He pressed its button and a hologram appeared like the last time.

“Keiz Willa,” Poe read out loud. “A First Order starship supplier. Coronet City, Corellia.” 

He looked at his partner. 

“You ever been there?”

She shook her head. 

“But I’ve heard it’s worse than Coruscant,” she grumbled, rubbing her forehead. “I miss Naboo already.”

Poe laughed. 

“Well, we’ll try to finish it as quickly as possible then. I’m gonna go set the new coordinates.”

“How long will it take to get there?”

“Beebs? Do you know?”

BB-8 whirred and beeped.

“He said it’s about twenty-six hours from Naboo. We've already been moving towards the Core for the last five hours, so...”

“So about twenty-one hours,” she finished.

“Pretty much,” he called.

He heard her sigh as he walked up the ramp to alter their hyperspace route.

***

They both fell back asleep for another six hours before BB-8, who had been charged to keep them on a healthy schedule, woke them up to eat. Both of them got bored very quickly. So Deccol had the wonderful idea of sparring. She found two wrenches that they could use as knives.

“C’mon then.”

They were facing each other. Her posture was relaxed, arms hanging by her sides, wrench held loosely in her right hand.

But Poe knew better. They had, after all, ended up with her wrench at his neck along with a smirk on her face _several_ times over in the last twenty minutes alone. 

He scowled at her and she smiled smugly. 

_Pretend…_

Keeping a firm eye on her wrench, he lunged forward with a slash that she slipped under, extending her wrench to strike his torso, but he grabbed her wrist before it could touch and dragged it sideways, twisting. 

She moved with it, turning in a fluid one-eighty, ducking his under wrench and swiftly sliding into his space to slip a foot between his legs, planting it behind his heel. She forcefully shoved him back, against his chest and ripped her wrist out of his grip. 

He stumbled backwards, tripping over her foot. 

Poe hit the ground with a cry, ribs jarring from the impact and he curled up on his side with a whimper, gripping his chest and squeezing his eyes shut.

Deccol gasped, evidently remembering his previous injury.

“ _Osi’kyr_! Dameron?” 

She dropped to her knees next to him and touched his arm, worried.

Instantly he flipped onto his back and used all the strength and momentum he had, to drag her over him onto her back, as he rolled onto his other side. 

He scrambled up before she could recover and swung his leg over her, placing a knee on either side of her chest, pinning her down. He grinned, delighted it had worked. 

She swiped her fists at his face but he leaned back, out of reach, laughing. He caught hold of her wrists and held them tight as she wriggled desperately.

“ _Di’kuut_!” she groaned to herself, thumping her head against the floor. “That’s not fair!” 

She glared up at him balefully.

“Of course _you’d_ say that,” he teased, still thrilled he’d finally got her. “I bet you’ve done something sneaky like that before.”

She gave him a dirty look and he giggled, knowing he was right. 

And suddenly the air shifted and he noticed something else smouldering in her eyes as they held each other's gaze.

Poe’s mouth went dry and his grip loosened, letting her wrists slip out of his grasp, heat coiling in his stomach.

He was going to move his hand, he wanted to brush his thumb over her cheek and jaw and neck and lips and-

  
  


Then BB-8 chirped at them from the door and they flinched, the moment broken. 

Poe jerked sideways, slipping off of her and she struggled to her feet, avoiding his gaze. 

Mumbling some excuse under her breath, she fled out of the room. 

Poe let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. 

Was that…

His hand found its way to his hair, raking through nervously as his thoughts swirled. 

Shit.

He let himself go limp on the floor with a sigh and lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

BB-8 whirred from the door.

“No, not now, buddy,” he mumbled. 

A second later, he heard BB-8 roll off with an uncertain hum.

***

They spent the next hours til their arrival on Corellia dancing around and avoiding each other. 

It was hard in the confined space of the Ember, but they managed.

And Poe didn’t know if he felt relief or disappointment at this.

To keep himself busy _and keep his brain from thinking about Deccol_ , he did some research on his datapad.

First on Corellia’s biggest city, Coronet City. 

It was an industrial manufacturing hub, a large producer of starships and other technology. 

Not surprising that the Order had a presence there. Even the New Republic had shipyards there.

But then his curiosity grew and he found himself searching and reading about the Mandalorians and their culture. 

He stumbled upon an article some galactic anthropologist had written more than seventy years ago. 

Seventy years ago… That would have been _years_ before the Clone Wars. 

He shifted around on his bed to get more comfortable for the read.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a read, it's quite interesting:  
> [The article Poe found on the Mandalorians.](https://mandowords.tumblr.com/post/171049754076/the-mandalorians-people-and-culture-star-wars)
> 
> Mando'a Translations:  
> Ke'pare - Wait (an order)  
> Osi'kyr - [a strong exclamation of surprise or dismay]  
> Di'kuut - idiot, fool
> 
> So.... what did you think of the _tension_?


	10. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 on Corellia

***

“In a place like Corellia, being seen as a Mandalorian will make it less likely for people to bother me, and therefore you.”

“You mean, you’re using your armour as a deterrent.”

“Pretty much. If I’d been wearing it in Theed that night, we wouldn’t have gotten attacked.”

“I suppose.”

It was the first time they'd been together in the same room without dithering and attempting to escape each other after the... the _moment_. Poe was relieved that they seemed to be able to be normal again.

Though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pretend it never happened. 

He knew _she_ would want to ignore it, and he felt unusually downcast whenever it flitted through his mind.

But, if she wanted to ignore it, he’d respect that.

And he knew it was for the better. Relationships on missions could turn out nasty.

  
  


They were pulling into a landing bay in Coronet City, just before noon. It was everything that Theed was not. 

Dull, grey buildings, seemingly built on top of each other, coupled with an overcast sky, did not give a welcoming impression. Large shipyards floated overhead, casting wide shadows on the city below. 

The _Ember_ landed smoothly, as usual.

“C’mon Beebs,” Poe said, slipping out of his chair and internally reminding himself to grab his blaster. “Let’s go check-in.”

This time, their docking officer was not a docking officer, but a pitiful, rusty security droid instead. BB-8 scooted behind Poe’s legs as it approached, tilting his head to peek out from behind his master.

“Hi there, are y-”

“ _Manifest_.”

“Right,” sighed Poe, stepping sideways to reveal his wary droid. “Give it to him BeeBee.”

Reluctantly, BB-8 rolled forward and held out the Ember’s projector chip. The security droid took it and plugged it into a port on it’s side.

“Just came from Naboo, huh? Well, it looks all clear.” 

It plucked the chip out and tossed it back to BB-8 who, much to Poe’s pride, caught it deftly with his claw.

“I’m technically supposed to say ‘enjoy your stay’,” began the droid, almost sarcastically as he walked away, “but most people don’t. Just make sure you lock your ship up if you leave it,” it droned over it's shoulder.

Poe watched the security droid clunk off with a raised eyebrow.

BB-8 whined.

“Yeah, he seems _really_ cheerful. Maybe you could make friends with him,” Poe teased, leaning over his little droid.

The little droid jerked back with a piercing whistle and he chuckled.

“Oh don’t worry. I’m only joking. C’mon, let’s go get Deccol.”

Beebs hummed at him as they walked for the ramp.

Poe trailed to a stop and frowned down at him.

“I- What? I don’t know, I guess I never started calling her by her first name. And now, it’s kinda too late to start.” 

He kept his voice steady, feigning nonchalance, but his stomach had twisted at the droid’s question.

“Plus, she’s never called me Poe,” he mumbled, disappointment flickering in his chest for the second time that day. “So, y'know, we’re even.”

Beebs chirped mockingly and he glared down at the droid.

"Shut up."

***

Poe and Deccol were weaving through a thick street-market crowd, naturally looking for a cantina. It wasn’t hard, people automatically moved aside when they saw the Mandalorian armour.

BB-8 had been left behind much to his disappointment, but Poe hadn’t been about to risk taking him after the sorry-excuse-for-a-security-droid’s warning. So Deccol had charged BB-8 with protecting her precious sniper rifle to lift his spirits. 

Poe kept close on his partner’s heels as they walked, his cloak’s hood drawn over his face. 

  
  


She had tossed him a dark brown cloak as they’d departed from the _Ember_.

“It’d be best to keep your face more or less hidden.”

“Do I have to?” he’d whined at first, before switching gears. “You don’t think I have a… a _memorable_ face... do you?” he’d teased lightly. 

Teased? Or flirted?

She had stopped walking at the comment to silently turn her visor at him. And somehow he knew she was glaring.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he’d replied cheerfully as he swept the cloak over his shoulders and billowed past her.

At first, he’d been tense, seeing all the heads turn at the sight of the Mandalorian armour. But as the minutes passed, he began to relax, realising that she had been right. The armour did make things easier. People just seemed to part right in front of her, opening up an easy path.

It was clever, in a way. Deccol instantly had a ready disguise. She could walk the streets with or without her armour, and people would never guess it was the same person. 

A small, soot-smeared girl darted across their path and Poe noticed his partner’s head turn ever so slightly in her direction. 

Before stopping abruptly, to turn and watch the kid as she continued running off. 

And the child glanced over her shoulder, _right_ at them. A pair of bright eyes and a small smile under a mop of pale hair.

Then she plunged back into the crowd and disappeared. 

“We’re following her,” Deccol muttered to Poe as she hastily brushed past his shoulder, visor fixed in the direction of the kid.

“What?”

***

They followed the kid, weaving through endless streets and paths. Or at least, Poe hoped they were following her. He’d lost sight of the child long back but Deccol kept a sure path so he followed.

“Hey,” he said, momentarily grabbing her arm. “What if this kid is leading us to a trap?”

“She’s not.”

“How do you know?” he hissed, more urgently.

“ _Trust_ me, Dameron. We’re not in danger. But if you don't like it, I can direct you back to the ship.”

He scoffed in disbelief as she shrugged off his hand to continue walking.

What sort of partner did she think he was?

“You really think I’d just leave you on your own? No. I’m coming.”

“Good. Now come on.”

*** 

Deccol slowed to a stop, Poe next to her. They had turned off of a busy street, into a remarkably quiet one.

“The trail ends here.”

“What trail?” Poe grumbled rhetorically.

They pulled out their blasters and he followed her as she stalked towards a building, inspecting it.

He looked around, watching their surroundings. A sudden movement in the corner of his eye caused him to jerk, swinging his blaster around in front of him, Deccol echoing his actions next to him.

And they found themselves staring at two Mandalorians. They were clearly armed, bu no weapons were aimed at Deccol or Poe, just loosely held at their sides.

The larger Mando’s armour had a faded coat of greed paint. Green was annoyingly taller than Poe and broader too, holding himself with a confidence that only experience offered.

The other Mando who Poe temporarily dubbed ‘Orange’, for obvious reasons, matched Poe in height. 

It was clear they were heavily armed with plenty of other weaponry.

Poe glanced quickly at his partner. She didn’t move, keeping her blaster directed firmly at Orange. So he did the same with Green.

“ _Tion gar gai? Aliit?_ ”

Green spoke first.

“ _Avara Djarin_ ,” Deccol replied, still not moving. 

Surprise fluttered in Poe.

Djarin? Was that some other name she used?

Orange and Green exchanged glances, also seeming surprised.

“ _Ner vod, al'verde Poe Dameron_ ,” she continued, gesturing to Poe with her free hand. 

The way she said his name then, was different, affected by the language's accent.

“ _Djarin?_ ”

Deccol raised her chin. 

After a second of consideration, Green spoke again.

“ _Olarom, Djarin._ ”

But she didn't move. 

“And my friend?"

"Your friend is welcome here too.”

Deccol lowered her blaster, relaxing, and Poe followed suit.

“There is a covert here?” Deccol asked, stepping forward.

“There is. I am Riko,” said Green, “and this is Rusan.”

Rusan gave a polite nod in greeting, orange helmet glinting brightly. 

“Come,” Riko said, and they turned away to slip through a gap between two buildings that Poe wouldn’t have noticed otherwise.

He turned to her.

“Is this safe?”

She looked back at him. The eyes he couldn’t see behind her visor somehow seemed to burn through him anyway.

“I wouldn’t have brought you if I thought it wasn’t,” she said with a slight huff, as if it was obvious, before walking after the other two Mandalorians. 

Poe frowned after her before following, holstering his weapon.

***

Along the way, Rusan fell back to talk with Deccol.

“Are the rumours true? That there are Mandalorians repopulating Mandalore again?”

“Darksaber was reclaimed from Imperial remnants almost ten years ago, giving way for a _Mand'alor_.”

“Your father? So the stories _are_ true.”

“There are a lot of rumours about what happened, not all true. Who is _alor_ here?” She asked, deftly changing the subject.

“I am,” Riko said over his shoulder. “Do you follow the old ways, _ad’ika_?”

“No. My father does, but I was lucky to grow in a safer time.”

“That you are.”

  
  


They came upon a hole in the ground, steps circling down.

Rusan politely ushered Poe and Deccol ahead, and they followed Riko down. Finally reaching the bottom, they entered a large room, yellow lamps casting a gentle glow onto the brown walls and shining off the brightly coloured armour of waiting Mandalorians. There must have been around fifteen of them crowded into the room, clearly waiting for Riko and Rusan’s return. 

“We have guests!” Riko said loudly, and the room erupted with conversation. 

Evidently, visitors were not common.

“It will be mealtime in a few minutes,” Rusan told them. “Will you join us?”

Both Poe and Deccol nodded. “Of course.”

“Come this way,” he said to them before raising his voice. “ _Or’ilor ca’nara!_ ”

At his call, people began moving towards a doorless doorway across the room. They followed, stepping through and entering a small cavern expanding in front of them. The place was lit with warm lanterns hung from the pale brown walls and ceiling. Two long tables spanned the length of the hall, clearly a gathering place for meals. 

Several people were already seated, some without any armour, including a group of children seated on the table to the right. They were already eating. The youngest may have been around four, the oldest looked closer to twelve.

Poe spotted the sandy-haired girl who’d led them there.

Catching Poe’s eye, she smiled cheerfully and gave a small wave. Poe smiled back as more people bustled in noisily.

Rusan led them to the table on the right and they sat down. As Poe looked around, he realised some not eating, not removing their helmets for the meal. Some of them were sitting with the younger children, helping them eat.

He could see Riko's green armour among them, settling a youngling on his lap.

“Why are some of them not eating?” Poe whispered, leaning towards Deccol as she pulled her helmet off.

Once again, damp curls were stuck to her forehead, making Poe want to brush his fingers through them.

But she did it herself, his eyes tracking her hand through the movement. She didn’t seem to notice his staring.

“They grew up with what we call the _Old Way_ ,” she began, leaning in as well.

Poe struggled not to squirm at their closeness.

“They were young during Imperial rule, during what we call the _Great Purge_. It was safer to not reveal their faces or identities. Before the rise of the Empire, it wasn’t like that. At least from what I’ve heard.”

“You said your father follows it?”

Pots and trays of food were being passed down the tables.

“Yeah, he was born a couple years before the Clone Wars.”

Rusan, who was sitting across from them, had removed his helmet.

He had dark skin and short, jet-black hair, which had been done in thin braids close to his scalp. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old. It was startling, seeing how young he was. Poe hadn't expected it.

“Please, help yourselves,” he said, nudging a pot towards Deccol and Poe.

“Thank you,” Deccol replied, dipping her head formally.

“ _Vor’e_ ,” Poe said, trying not to grin at his partner when she looked at him sharply in the corner of his eye.

“I did some light reading on my datapad a while ago,” he said smugly, before she could ask. “Picked up a few words.”

She sighed, exasperated. But, she was smiling slightly as she served herself stew.

Rusan and Deccol fell into an easy conversation about the stories that he’d mentioned earlier.

_Yes, Darksaber was reclaimed, whatever that was. Yes, Mandalore was once again being populated by Mandalorians. Yes, there was a large group of them there, largely unbothered by the rest of the galaxy, so far at least. Almost two-hundred of them, including children._

  
  


Poe listened silently, surprisingly content to just observe. 

He served himself food and scooped a mouthful into his mouth before sighing. 

She _definitely_ hadn’t been wrong about Mandalorians having good food.

Suddenly noticing his appetite, he sped up.

And he realised his mistake much too late.

It had taken almost half a minute for the spices in the stew to reveal themselves and begin an agonising burn through his nose. 

He turned to Deccol, feeling his eyes grow hot as they began to water. 

“Is there something to drink anywhere?” he asked desperately, sniffling slightly.

She looked at him and snorted, struggling to contain her laughter through a morsel as she thumped a fist onto the table. Others sitting around seemed to catch on to Poe’s current state and began giggling.

He scowled at the unwelcome attention, ducking his head.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to warn you!"

He glowered at her as she laughed again, but it probably looked more pathetic than angry with the tears in his eyes.

“ _Kaysh aalar heturam,_ ” yelled a booming voice behind him and he turned to see Riko standing behind him.

There was a smattering of laughter throughout the hall and Poe hunched over even more, embarrassed. 

The man clapped a heavy hand onto Poe's shoulder.

“Us _Mando’ade_ love that burn,” he told him kindly. “I was just coming to see how our visitors are doing,” he said to the table.

Poe could hear a smile in the words.

“Seems like I’m right on time,” he continued, dumping a cup of water down on the table.

“Thank you,” Poe coughed, before gulping the entire glass. 

Riko laughed and leaned down to mumble something to Deccol before he walked away.

“What’d he say?” asked Poe in a low voice, still sniffling.

“He wants to talk after. I guess he wants to know what we’re doing on Corellia.”

“Are you going to tell him? You trust him?”

“We’re sitting here, eating a meal amongst his family. I trust him.”

***

Halfway through the meal, another Mando darted into the hall and took the empty spot next to Rusan. He briefly touched his helmet to Rusan’s forehead before he pulled it off. This new Mando also looked young.

“This is my husband,” said Rusan, placing his hand on the new Mando’s shoulder for a second. 

He had pale hair and friendly eyes that twinkled as he smiled at them.

Poe liked him immediately. 

“ _Su’cuy. Ni Darro._ ”

“Good to meet you, Darro. I’m Avara.”

“I’m Poe.”

Rusan leaned into his husband’s shoulder to mutter something into his ear and Darro’s eyes widened.

“ _Djarin_? You’re _his_ daughter?”

She nodded and smiled down at her stew, shifting on the bench. 

That name... everyone knew it.

“Being here, on Corellia, how is it? Is it safe?” she said after Darro had helped himself.

“No one bothers us if that’s what you mean,” replied Rusan. “We’re careful when we go out. Outsiders don’t know our numbers and we’d prefer to keep it that way. Especially with these Imperial wannabees running around the galaxy.”

“You mean the First Order,” Poe blurted.

“Yes. Those fools in the New Republic can’t see it, but it’s obvious,” said Rusan, grinding knuckles into the table as he glared at them intensely, as if daring them to disagree.

Poe almost smiled at the sight.

“If they become as dangerous as the Empire was, we’ll once again be under threat,” Darro chimed in.

“That’s true enough,” said Deccol.

She and Poe exchanged a quick, pleased look. 

Allies.

***

People began trickling out of the hall as they finished their meals, most likely to get back to whatever daily duties they had. Rusan had been among them, bidding them goodbye earlier. Darro had offered to take Deccol to Riko, who had left soon after Poe had his mouth-burn episode.

Slightly disgruntled he hadn’t been invited to talk with Riko, he stayed where he was, watching the children finish their meals as he traced a long scratch down the wooden length of the tabletop.

Maybe a less spicy version was made for their more sensitive palates. Poe certainly hoped so.

The blond girl still sat with them. Once again she spotted Poe and smiled, slipping off her bench to come nearer.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” came the small reply. 

She seemed slightly shy as she slid onto the bench next to him. “Where did your _riduur_ go?”

“Oh, you mean my partner? She went to talk with Riko. What’s your name?”

“I’m Naura.”

“I’m Poe,” he said, holding out his arm in greeting.

He was vaguely aware of a couple of elder Mandos watching intently from across the room. 

Naura gripped the offered forearm, looking delighted.

“Were you in a fight?” she asked suddenly. 

Poe remembered the bruises on his face and chuckled lightly. “I was. Some bad guys tried to steal my credits.”

She nodded seriously, placing her elbow on the table and leaning against her hand.

“You’re not _Mando’ad_ , right?” she asked. 

“No, I’m not.”

He mirrored her position, facing her with an elbow on the table and chin on his fist.

“What are you?”

He thought for a second. 

“I’m a pilot.”

Naura’s eyes widened. “You can fly?”

Poe smiled. “Yeah, I can. My mother taught me when I was little and then when I got older I learned more.”

“That’s cool!” 

She was now facing him directly, her legs crossed beneath her.

Once again Poe copied her, turning and crossing his own legs on the bench.

She frowned. 

“Are you copying me?”

“No.”

Naura frowned at him disbelievingly and lifted her right hand. Poe lifted his left. She froze slightly, mouth opening in surprise. Poe imitated her, pretending to be shocked with an exaggerated gasp.

She giggled. 

“I don’t look like that!”

“You sure do,” he replied, chortling as he ruffled her hair. “How old are you?”

“I’m almost nine!” she boasted, lifting her chin.

“Oh,” he said, rolling his eyes and pretending to look bored. “That’s not very big.”

“Yes, it is! I already know how to fight!”

“Wow! Really?” he asked, stressing his enthusiasm for her benefit.

She nodded, suddenly excited. “Look!”

She sprung off the bench and stood facing him with her fists up and feet a shoulder-width apart. A flawless fighting stance.

Impressive for an eight-year-old, that was for sure.

Poe held up a palm in front of her. “Go on then,” he said, nodding his head encouragingly.

Her blue eyes narrowed adorably in concentration and she struck out strongly, her small fist striking his hand.

“Ooof!” he huffed, shaking his hand out. “That was one strong punch!”

Naura smiled, her cheeks going red at the praise.

Hearing approaching footsteps he turned, seeing Riko and Deccol heading over. His partner was smiling. 

He blushed as he wondered how much they’d seen of him and Naura.

The little girl followed his gaze, then looked back at him.

“I think _ba’buir_ likes your _riduur_.”

“Oh. That’s… good.” 

What does that mean?

Naura ran over to Riko and the man scooped her up. Poe got up and stretched before walking over, just in time to hear Riko speak.

“I hope you weren’t bothering our guest, Naura.”

“Oh, she wasn’t,” Poe interrupted as Naura shook her head. “She’s a joy.” 

As the kid beamed at him, he suddenly remembered something he’d read in that Mandalorian article.

_Make a fuss of their children._

“A really _strong_ joy,” he added quickly. “My hand is still hurting,” he pretended to whine, rubbing his terribly injured palm.

Naura burst into another peal of giggles and shyly turned her head into Riko’s neck. 

Poe grinned, sticking his tongue into his cheek at her reaction, glancing at Deccol.

The smile was still on her face as she looked at him. And his cheeks began tingling again.

“Naura,” Riko said as he gently placed the child back onto the floor, “why don’t you go back and sit with your _vode_?”

“Yes, _ba’buir_ ,” she said obediently. “ _Ret’, Poe! Ret’ be’Poe riduur!_ ” 

She raced off and Riko burst out laughing, bringing a hand to his chest plate in his mirth.

Deccol looked startled, lips parting as she glanced at Riko.

“I- we’re not-” she stammered before he interrupted.

“I know, _ad’ika_.”

“What? What did she say?” asked Poe, cluelessly looking between them.

“She thinks I’m your wife,” Deccol muttered, shuffling her feet.

Her cheeks definitely weren’t always that pink. 

And Poe could feel his face also heating up.

Riko chuckled again, his laugh sounding like static from his helmet, before sobering.

“So, Avara has told me that you are with the Resistance and you’re here to find someone. We have scouts, _Mando’ade_ who regularly go out into the city to observe our environment. I will tell them to look for this person.”

Poe gaped slightly. 

“I- That’s very generous. Thank you.”

Riko dipped his head. “It is what we do for _burc’yase_ , Dam’ika. I expect we’ll see you tomorrow? You both are welcome here.”

***

“So, Corellia doesn’t seem so bad anymore, huh?” Poe said as they neared the _Ember_ an hour later.

“It’s always nice to find the familiar in the unfamiliar. But Corellia will always be a shit-hole,” she replied as they waited for the ramp to lower.

He was beginning to love the sound of her voice through her helmet. The way it was still recognisable even through the modulation and how it crackled smoothly. 

They could hear BB-8’s excitable trilling just behind the lowering ramp, bringing a smile to his face.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations in order of appearance: (There’s a lot in this chapter! Sorry!)  
> Tion gar gai? Aliit? - What’s your name? Clan?  
> Ner vod, al'verde Poe Dameron - My comrade/mate, Commander Poe Dameron  
> Olarom - Welcome  
> Alor - Leader/Chief  
> Ad’ika - little one/young one  
> Or’ilor ca’nara! - Lunch time!  
> Vor’e - Thanks  
> Kaysh aalar heturam! - He feels the mouthburn!  
> Mando’ad(e) - Mandalorian(s)  
> Su’cuy. Ni Darro Desyk. - Hi. I’m Darro Desyk.  
> Riduur - spouse (wife/husband)  
> Ba’buir - Grandfather  
> Vod(e) - sister(s)/brother(s)  
> Ret’, Poe! Ret’ be’Poe riduur! - Bye, Poe! Bye, Poe’s wife!  
> Burc’ya(se) - friend(s)  
> Dam’ika - (I just took the first syllable of Dameron and added ‘ika which is a diminutive suffix in Mando’a. It’s basically Poe’s nickname now)
> 
> As usual, let me know what's going through your head after that chapter! :)  
> Much love, Iye  
> Update: next chapter will be up by Friday 15th


	11. Simmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 on Corellia  
> Day 3 on Corellia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **If you haven't already seen, I'm planning to change this fic rating from Teen to Mature**  
>    
> *wink wink*

***

Early the next day after eating a hasty breakfast, they went back to the covert to talk with the scouts to explain who they were looking for. Then, with nothing else to do for the rest of the day, Darro took Deccol to watch the children training. Naturally, Poe followed them, unwilling to be left by himself. 

Rusan, being one of the scouts, was out for the day.

He admired the community they had. Every person had a role. No one was left out, no one was unneeded. 

He met the few adults that were not yet _Mando’ad_ , but were still in the covert as their spouses were part of the creed. They, much to Poe’s bashfulness, had also assumed he was Deccol’s husband. 

He noticed very quickly, that the children were the pride of the community. Most of them were _foundlings_ , adopted orphans, but in the eyes of the small society, that didn’t make them any less. 

Darro had told him of a Mandalorian saying after he’d mentioned his admiration of this.

_Gar taldin ni jaonyc, gar sa buir, ori’wadaas’la._

Nobody cares who your parents were, only the parent you’ll be.

And Poe had smiled to himself at that. It was a good mentality to have, no one could doubt that.

He'd looked to Deccol then. She was kneeling on one knee, showing one of the older kids how to grip her knife.

She had been a foundling too. And now she had somewhere to belong. Because she had been adopted.

Lunch came and went, with Poe receiving a special bowl of something slightly less spicy much to everyone’s amusement. They teasingly told him he was eating what the children ate.

After lunch, Deccol was called away for some Mandalorian thing, and Poe once again found himself accompanied by Naura and some of her siblings as he waited for his partner to return. 

When she did come back with some other Mandos, she found him with two of the oldest children teaching him to throw his knife, with the younger ones watching.

Afterwards, she’d stretched up to whisper that he’d had his dumb-concentration look on his face again. He shoved her again, blushing through a scowl as she laughed.

Their third day on Corellia passed much like the previous. But this time, BB-8 came with them. After initial caution, as they weren’t familiar with droids, the children's curiosity eventually gave way and they began to play with him. Unsurprisingly, and much to Poe’s delight, BB-8 was thrilled with all the attention. 

Just before dinner time, Riko sent for Poe and Deccol. They were directed to a meeting room and when they walked in, Rusan was waiting there with Riko and another scout they’d met the day before. 

Poe recalled her name after a second. Juna.

Both the scouts nodded formally in greeting when they sat down around the holotable, Riko at the head. The three younger Mandalorians removed their helmets and Poe kept his eyes firmly on Riko as he began to speak, knowing he’d get distracted by the curls he just _knew_ were against Deccol’s forehead.

“I trust you have all already been introduced to each other?”

They all nodded.

“Good. Juna, tell them what your scouts found.”

Juna leaned forward and tapped a button on her side of the table. A holograph of what looked like some large, chunky ship sprung up, casting the room in a blue glow. Everyone leaned closer. 

“It’s a shipyard. I’m sure you saw plenty of them hovering over the city when you flew in?”

Poe and Deccol nodded.

“Well, your Keiz Willa person manages this shipyard. It’s called Tsanin Yard. What was curious, is that it’s the only shipyard we know of, _not_ within city limits. Currently, it’s hovering eight-hundred klicks south-east from here, above forestland.”

“And that’s not normal for a Corellian shipyard, is it?” Poe said, glancing at Deccol.

“No. It’s not,” Rusan agreed. “They always remain in the city as it’s where the workers are. It’s obvious that Tsanin Yard is avoiding attention. And Willa most likely never leaves it.”

Poe looked back at Deccol, who had also turned to him with a frown.

“There would be no way to get onto the shipyard,” she mumbled to him. “They would have guns and security so we wouldn’t even be able to fly or land the _Ember_ on it as we’d be trapped. They’d just blow the ship up to stop us from escaping.”

A small smile spread over Poe’s face.

“We could steal a ship from them. Plus, they don’t call me the best pilot in the Resistance for nothing.”

Deccol smirked. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that we still couldn’t land on it. The mine on Naboo hadn’t been FO related for more than a month and it was already crawling with troopers.” 

Riko, Rusan and Juna were watching the two partners discuss. 

“If we land the _Ember_ on the yard,” Deccol continued, “it’s as good as a suicide mission.”

“There is a way,” Riko interrupted suddenly.

“ _No_ ,” Deccol said sharply, instantly seeming to realise what Riko was implying.

A second later, it dawned on Poe.

“None of you are going to help,” she insisted. “If you help us, they’ll know you’re here. Everyone will be in danger. The children will be in danger. Your secrecy is your survival.”

“You’ve already realised you can’t do it with just you and your ship,” Juna cut in. “The only way is if we do it with you.”

Deccol’s eyes narrowed furiously. “ _Nayc! Nu dra-_ ”

“ _Luubid!_ ”

Riko’s curt word silenced Deccol and she glared at him furiously. But she held her tongue.

“ _Mhi nasreyc_ ,” he continued firmly.

Poe glanced between them as Deccol sagged back in her chair and closed her eyes. Distress was flitting across her face.

“But what will the covert do after?” she asked, still trying to fight. “They’ll come for you.” 

The last statement slipped out under her breath and Poe uneasily realised she hadn’t intended for him to hear it. 

“We thought about that,” Riko said, glancing at Juna and Rusan who were smiling slightly.

“In payment for helping you, you will fly us to Mandalore. I’ve heard _Mando’ade_ are populating Sundari again.”

She looked up, eyebrows flicking up briefly.

“It is time for us to leave Corellia. Do you accept?”

Deccol frowned, thinking. 

Under the table, Poe saw her fists clench.

“I-” she sighed heavily- “they could follow us to Mandalore. But... it’s better than staying here,” she agreed, albeit reluctantly. 

Deccol turned back to Poe, looking at him desperately, clearly asking for his opinion and support. 

He bit his lip thoughtfully, staring at the hologram of the large shipyard that flickered in front of them.

They couldn’t accept such help. It was _their_ mission, their responsibility.

He slowly shook his head as he looked at Riko. 

“The Resistance can’t afford to take responsibility for-”

“As I said Dam’ika, it is already decided. We are providing our aid to the Resistance because it is what’s right,” Riko said, cutting in. 

He really wasn’t tolerating any form of protest.

Poe sighed and nodded slowly as Deccol glared at her lap. 

“How many people in the covert, total?”

“Twenty-nine. Twenty adults and nine children.”

Then he turned to BB-8, who’d been listening intently at his side.

“BeeBee, how long is the journey from here to Mandalore?”

The droid whistled.

Poe looked up, glancing between Deccol and Riko. 

“It’ll be cramped and uncomfortable in our ship, but I have a feeling that won’t bother you. It’s also just a day’s journey, twenty-four hours long.”

Across the table, Juna and Rusan’s eyes lit up as they glanced at each other, almost excited.

“Then,” began Riko, “We will share our plan. It is different from what yours would be…”

***

The hall was bustling with fresh energy as they walked in. It was as if everyone knew something was about to change. 

Poe and Deccol once again followed Rusan to the same place they’d been sitting at for the lunches they’d had. Poe recognised Darro’s blue armour and he raised a hand in greeting. 

As Riko walked into the room, the people quieted, heads turning silently as he made his way to the head of the room before he turned to address them.

“I know what you all have heard,” he called, voice carrying through the crowd easily. “There is to be a mission. And then we will be moving. We have been here on Corellia far too long. The children will grow better amongst other _Mando’ade_ , on _Manda’yaim_.”

The hall exploded with commotion for a second, hushing as Juna yelled for their attention.

“After dinner, I want all the warriors in the forge. Avara and Poe, you as well.” 

People craned their necks to glimpse the partners as Riko called to them. 

“As for the rest of you, gather your belongings after dinner.” 

Once again, noise erupted.

“Now,” said Riko, raising his voice, “we will return to routine.”

Deccol hastily tugged Poe to his feet as the entire room stood, benches scraping against the floor noisily. 

Quickly, Deccol leaned up and whispered into his ear. 

“Remember those you’ve lost.”

And then, all at the same time, they spoke, heads and helmets bowed.

_“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.”_

It rang through the hall in a low, vibrating hum, settling almost comfortingly in Poe’s chest.

He didn’t understand the words... but he understood. 

His fists clenched at the abrupt but familiar grief that simmered within as he remembered.

After they’d chanted as a whole, individually they whispered to themselves. The murmurs sounded like names. 

When the whispers ceased they all settled back down, ready to eat.

***

The forge was the room closest to the surface as it needed a ventilation shaft.

The metal-worker, who the Mandalorians called their Armourer, was a young girl of sixteen years. According to Darro, she had been the student to their previous Armourer until his unexpected passing a month before, leaving her apprenticeship uncompleted.

When Deccol and Poe entered the forge, the harsh hammering that had led them there stopped and she’d approached them, slowly pulling her helmet off, almost cautious. 

When Deccol told her that there was, in fact, an armourer on Mandalore who would complete her training, the biggest smile split her face and she scuttled back to her piece of Beskar, hammering it with renewed enthusiasm.

Riko appeared next, and soon the rest of the fighters trickled in until nineteen people were in the small room, making it even more stuffy than it had already been.

The warriors were told the facts of the mission with the soft roar of the blue forge fires in the background. 

Their target was Tsanin Yard which was eight-hundred klicks outside the city. The only way to access the yard would be through air travel. They had one ship, which was a small freighter provided by the Resistance and would get them close by. Then, the rest was in their hands.

After the mission, the entire covert would be on their way to Mandalore.

The plan was clear to all by the end of the hour. Three fighters were being left behind to provide security for the spouses and children, plus the Armourer. This meant there were thirteen Corellian Mandalorians for the mission, along with Poe, Deccol and BB-8.

It was settled. They would leave at sundown the next day for a night attack.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations:  
> Nayc! Nu draar! - No! No way!  
> Luubid! - enough!  
> Mhi nasreyc - We (are) decided  
> Manda’yaim - Mandalore  
> Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. - I’m still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. (This daily prayer is usually followed by the repetition of the names of passed loved ones)
> 
>   
> **If you haven't already seen, I'm planning to change this fic rating from Teen to Mature**
> 
> as usual, lemme know what you guys are thinking in the comments :)  
> \- iye


	12. Ignite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Day 4 on Corellia

***

Poe and Deccol had left after the meeting in the forge to quickly head back to the _Ember_. He kept close to her as they walked, wary of the dark streets. He couldn’t help but remember that night in Theed.

They had planned to sleep but ended up working through the night to get the ship ready for the oncoming mass of people. 

Each of them ended up on opposite sides of the ship, cleaning the two cargo-holds which is where most of the Mandalorians would end up resting. Then he moved onto the gallery, attempting to make space for the horde of food he knew was approaching in the pantry.

Poe had even moved his stuff out of his room, prepared to offer it to someone else. When he dumped his stuff in the gallery he saw Deccol’s belongings there already.

Later, when he walked to the cockpit and slid open the door, he flinched backwards, squinting at Corellia’s harsh sun blazing in.

Shit. It was already morning.

Turning on his heel, he combed the ship, looking for Deccol. She was in the unused cargo-hold sitting on the floor with her back turned to the door, hunched over with BB-8 as something sparked and flashed in her lap.

“Nah, Bee. Not that one. This… Do you see that? Hold that for me.”

Poe saw BB-8 shoot out a needle with a whir.

“Yeah… now hold it…”

More sparks burst from in front of her. Then a pause.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Thanks, Bee.”

The astromech hummed happily.

“Now go on. Go and find your Poe. I’m sure he needs your help with something.”

Since when did she call him _Poe_?

BB-8 turned and beeped in surprise at seeing Poe there, leaning against the doorway.

Deccol twisted around and pulled her helmet off to stare at him, surprised. She looked tired, a bit dishevelled. 

Damnit, her curls.

“What are you doing?”

Feeling like he’d been caught doing something wrong, he found himself struggling for words. 

“I- uh, I was waiting for you to finish. Did you know it’s already daytime?” he said, pointing over his shoulder to awkwardly point at the cockpit.

She paused, studying him for a second. 

“How long were you waiting?” she asked, blunt. 

_What_? What type of question is that?

BB-8 swivelled to look at him sharply.

“Not long. What were you doing?” he said, changing the subject desperately. 

His cheeks were once again burning for what felt like the millionth time this mission. He was lucky the room was dark.

Poe shifted closer and peered over her shoulder to see what she’d been working on. 

“Just my armour. It needs maintenance every now and then,” she answered, holding her detached chest plate up to him. He ignored the way she was looking up at him from the floor and focused on what she was handing him instead.

He never would have guessed the armour was covered in electrical circuitry on the inside. Real curiosity took hold and he took it from her, straining his eyes in the low light to examine it.

“Huh… this is neat. It’s lighter than I thought it would be,” he commented, flipping it deftly in his hands. “How long have you had it?”

“Since I was thirteen.”

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. 

“You’ve been wearing this armour since you were thirteen?”

She nodded. 

“Oh right,” he mumbled, suddenly remembering. “I read that you guys technically become adults at thirteen. That’s true then?”

“Yeah,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Where have you been reading this stuff?”

He blushed. Again. 

“There was an article I found that was written on the Mandalorians from before the Clone Wars.”

“...huh.” 

She was still looking at him curiously.

Poe felt like he was being scanned.

“I’m gonna go, I need to- I have some stuff I need to finish.”

Finally escaping her gaze, he found himself thinking about Karé. About the question she’d asked him, the day they had met Deccol.

_“Do you like her? As in…”_

***

He sat on his bunk in his recently vacated room with his fingers tangled in his hair and his elbows on his knees, groaning slightly to himself. 

He wondered when he started noticing every little thing about her. 

The way she would _always_ yawn when she rubbed her eyes. 

The way she would stand with her chin slightly lifted, as if she thought it made her seem taller. 

The way she would unfalteringly hold his gaze if she was listening to him. 

The way she would look playful without even smiling when they teased each other. 

The way her brown curls stuck to her forehead when she removed her helmet…

He swallowed thickly as the last image vividly burst into his mind.

He’d do anything to be able to talk to his friends. To ask them for help. 

Because the last time this happened… it didn’t end well. Going on missions with someone he…

It just wouldn’t end well.

***

One by one, throughout the day, the thirteen Mandalorians made their way to the _Ember_. The first to arrive were Darro and Rusan, unsurprisingly. 

They came with food and medical supplies and somehow instantly realised that Deccol and Poe hadn’t slept during the night, causing the two husbands to harass them until they finally agreed to retire for a few hours.

While they slept, more Mandalorians arrived, bringing crates of supplies, anything they might need for the mission. 

Six hours later, BB-8 woke both of them. 

When Poe stepped out of his room he instantly stepped painfully onto a sharp soldering iron and hopped backwards, before looking around. 

The place was littered with tools and scraps as the warriors made last-minute adjustments to their armour and weapons. He noticed that the alterations were largely focused on their vambraces. 

He asked Darro about it as he was fiddling with his own in the cargo hold. The man had stood up with a mischievous smile and told Poe to stand aside, before a fierce blaze of fire burst from his wrist, making Poe scuttle backwards into the wall with a gasp. The others watching laughed loudly, jeering at him teasingly.

A short while later, the last of the fighters appeared, Riko and Juna.

Juna had come with a small barrel in her arms, later opening it to reveal stacks of small but powerful explosive charges, sent by their Armourer. They were distributed evenly between the Mandalorians, amounting to six each. 

Poe watched from the doorway, slightly jealous at seeing them with all their cool gadgets.

“ _Hey_.” 

Spoken right behind his ear, he jumped and whirled around.

“ _Stop_ that,” he growled.

He couldn’t see her face as her helmet was on but he knew she was grinning underneath.

“What are you doing?”

“I was just watching them,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “They just got some charges. Did you get yours?”

“Now I will,” she said.

He sucked in a sharp breath that he hoped she hadn’t heard as she brushed past him to slip through the doorway.

His heart began to hammer, as something within him ignited fiercely. 

Caught by surprise, he automatically found himself backing away to the refresher and locking himself in. He hadn’t reacted to someone like this in a long time.

Shit, she was going to kill him at this rate.

He thumped his head back against the door as he desperately but unsuccessfully attempted to resist his heated thoughts. He’d managed to avoid this line of thought and action reasonably well. So far, at least. 

It was too much now. 

Poe turned as his hand undid the front of his pants, breath hitching as he began to stroke himself, bracing a forearm against the locked door. 

His lips parted and he could see his breaths against the metal of the door with each gasp before he allowed his eyes to slip shut in his guilty pleasure.

It wasn’t long until he was biting his lip to smother his moans.

***

Before they took off, they gathered in the left cargo-hold for one last meeting, revising the mission plan again. 

Poe was hiding behind Darro and Rusan, unable to face Deccol after what had happened earlier- no, what he’d _done_ earlier. He didn’t know when he’d be able to look her in the eye again. 

Guilt churned inside him every time he thought about it. Which was a lot.

Juna and Riko were opening the large crates the Mandalorians had brought. Seeing what was inside, he gasped as the room filled with excited murmurs. 

He’d assumed he would be landing the _Ember_ on the shipyard, but he wouldn’t. They would be flying. 

Fourteen beautiful silver jetpacks. It was obvious some had been previously used, but at least nine of them were brand new.

“Avara?” Riko called from beside the crate. “You have trained in the Rising Phoenix?”

“I have.”

“Do you have one of your own?”

“No, I’d use my father’s.”

Riko picked up the nearest jetpack and beckoned her closer. He turned it in his hands and held it out. 

She gasped, an incredulous smile spreading over her face as she slowly took it.

“Our armourer noticed your signet and was able to replicate it.”

Poe was shifting from side to side, on his toes from behind the group, trying to see. Darro noticed and leaned over to grab his arm to pull him closer to a better vantage point.

The jetpack was emblazoned with her mudhorn.

“I… It’s an honour,” she said so softly, Poe barely heard it. 

She was clearly overcome with the gesture.

“Come,” Riko called to the rest. “Darro, Elia, Rysi, Lana, _an evaar’la verde_. These are yours. I don’t need to tell you to treasure them.”

The younger Mandalorians crowded forward, Rusan grinning and flicking up his thumbs when his husband looked over his shoulder excitedly. 

“ _Kandosii_ ,” Rusan said cheerfully as Deccol and Darro returned with their new apparatus.

Poe made himself smile at her, despite the automatic guilt rolling inside. 

It was hard not too when she looked so thrilled.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> an evaar'la verde - all the young warriors  
> Kandosii - (Nice one!/Well done!/Amazing!)
> 
> Things get interesting in the next chapter... ;) I'm pretty excited to post the next chapter so I think I'll update it much sooner, maybe tomorrow itself.


	13. Searing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 4 on Corellia
> 
> Mission #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated the tags, please have a look just in case.

***

They were minutes away from starting. The _Ember_ was hovering high in the atmosphere, hidden above the cloud cover. Somewhere below them was the shipyard. 

He was alert, thrumming with energy as he sat in the cockpit, holding the ship in place with a steady hand gripping the throttle. He heard clunky footsteps coming his way from the lower deck.

“You ready, Dam’ika?”

It was Riko and Rusan.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Poe said over his shoulder with a nervous smile.

The older man patted Poe’s shoulder and turned to leave.

“Stay safe!”

The man laughed at Poe’s call. 

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

“He’ll be careful,” said Rusan, out of Riko's earshot. “We tried to convince him to stay back with the children but he wouldn’t hear it,” he continued, lowering his voice, “but then we’d all rather die fighting, than of old age.”

“I can understand why,” Poe said. “You Mandalorians live to fight. It’s almost ironic.”

“Life _is_ a fight,” said Decol’s familiar voice from behind Rusan.

She’d materialized at the cockpit’s entry.

Rusan tilted his head in agreement at Deccol’s statement as.

“ _K’oyacyi_ , Poe.” 

Rusan slipped out past Poe’s partner as she came closer.

“Good luck,” he called back as the orange helmet disappeared from view.

Deccol came closer and rested her hand on his shoulder.

He flushed, avoiding her eye for a second, before opening his mouth.

But she replied before he could even begin speaking.

“I will.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Be careful?”

Poe pursed his lips, annoyed as he heard an amused crackle of static.

“You too,” she said, squeezing his shoulder before she left. 

Her touch seemed to burn his skin through his jacket and shirt.

He turned to watch her silver helmet disappear to the lower deck, a coil of worry twisting in his stomach. He knew the feeling wouldn’t disappear until she was back on board and uninjured.

A minute later, the ship’s comm rustled to life.

“ _Come in, Poe. Can you hear me?_ ”

“Loud and clear, Darro.”

“ _Perfect. See you later._ ”

One by one, they all tested their comms with the ship and each other. He heard the whir of the ramp’s machinery below him as BB-8 opened it.

As Poe leaned forward, into the viewport to watch. Corellia’s two moons were on his right, making the layer of clouds glow. He heard them from the lower deck.

“ _Oya’cye. Ky’ram. Mare’cye. Darasuum. Oya! Oya!_ ”

Their battle chant. Poe recognised it from the article and grinned, shaking his head. They were crazy.

And then silence. They were gone.

Poe started the timer he had prepared and tilted the ship forward to let him squint out of the viewport. He wanted to see if he could catch a glimpse of them. 

All he got was rapid glinting of moonlight on polished armour before they disappeared through the cloud layer. 

BB-8 beeped from behind him.

“Yeah, thirty seconds… twenty,” Poe mumbled, eyes fixed on the timer.

He quickly shouldered his seat harness on. 

“Ten… Hold on, Beebs!”

“ _Dameron? We need you!_ ” Deccol yelled through the comms.

“Yep! On my way!”

He pushed the throttle forward and the ship dropped, accelerating towards the surface. 

BB-8 screamed behind him and Poe couldn't stop himself from laughing with maniacal glee as he felt the familiar rush. 

They broke through the clouds and he could see the lights of the shipyard accompanied by the rapid lines of red and yellow blaster bolts. He pushed the throttle down further. 

The shipyard deck was approaching, faster and faster.

“C’mon, _c’mon…_ ”

BB-8 shrieked behind him again. 

He fired, aiming where a large platoon of bucketheads were trying to take cover and pulled up just in the nick of time. 

The hull of the _Ember_ couldn’t have been more than a few meters off the yard.

“Yes! They don’t know what hit them!” he whooped to BB-8 as he spun the ship into a roll.

“ _Thanks, Dameron, but I believe you’ll get some company heading your way. This is a shipyard after all. We’re heading in, you left us clear._ ”

“I’ll keep an eye out. Watch your six.”

“ _Will do. Also, your cheering and yelling is a bit distracting, maybe mute your comm._ ”

Poe laughed as he pictured her eyes sparking brightly, the way they would whenever she teased him.

“If it pleases you, Commander Deccol.”

He flew around lazily, indulging in an occasional roll or loop, as he flew around the yard. It was slightly smaller than a regular star destroyer. 

He'd already shot out their few guns with ease and then had proceeded to take out the hangar on the lower levels of the shipyard.

He had almost been tempted to wait for a few TIEs to come after him before shooting out the hangar, but he couldn't risk the _Ember_ when so many depended on the ship for escape.

BB-8 had grappled his way into the co-pilot chair and managed to secure himself firmly enough. The astromech didn’t mind Poe’s aerobatics in the X-wing where he was secure, but here on the _Ember_ , it was annoying for the little droid.

Poe kept a sharp eye out, waiting for any possible sign of trouble.

With the Mandalorians, they’d decided they may as well take out the whole shipyard, rather than just hunt down one person. 

So they had two teams. The distraction and the detonators. The distraction team was a group of eleven, tasked with drawing the troopers away from where Deccol, Juna and Darro would head to the core of the ship. They were the detonators.

Some accurately placed charges on the reactor would be more than enough to send the floating yard plummeting to the surface. Had the Ember been equipped with more than just a gun, he might’ve been able to cripple the ship himself. 

It would have been about ten minutes later when he commed Deccol.

“Hey, Deccol? You busy?”

“ _No, not really. Just storming a First Order base. Not busy at all._ ”

Poe rolled his eyes.

“ _How’s it looking up there? Did you get your dogfight?_ ”

“Nope, it ended before it started. The hangar is down. And the deck has been quiet since you were there. They’re probably too busy to worry about me when they’ve got you guys on their hands,” he said, slightly jealous he wasn’t with them.

“ _Quite right too._ ”

The sounds of running and more blaster fire followed.

“ _Green Team, come in._ ”

Poe chuckled at hearing Deccol use his name for the distraction team. A little Resistance reference on a Mandalorian mission. Green for Riko’s armour of course.

“ _We hear you._ ” 

Poe recognised Rusan’s voice.

“ _Is everything ok on your end?_ ”

“ _Just perfect. Riko is enjoying himself. Don’t you love it when these_ shabuire _throw everything they have at you?_ ”

“Are you Mandalorians _always_ this sarcastic on a mission?” Poe chuckled lightly into his comm.

He heard Darro laugh. No doubt he was listening in to Rusan’s frequency.

“ _It adds to the fun_ ,” Deccol said dryly. “ _Anyway, we’re at the core. Planting charges now._ ”

Poe and BB-8 glanced at each other. 

This was the most critical part of the mission.

“ _Ok, we’ll be heading up,_ ” Rusan replied. “ _Poe? Be ready to pick us up._ ”

It was only four minutes later. 

Green Team had just flown back into the _Ember_ after their deft exit when Poe heard a loud noise followed by static. From Deccol’s side.

Panic flared in his chest as BB-8 whined beside him.

“Deccol? Deccol, come in! _Deccol_?”

But there was only static. No…

“DECCOL?!” 

Rusan rushed into the cockpit, hearing Poe’s yell, Riko close behind.

“What? What happened?”

“I don’t know, there was a bang…”

Rusan turned sharply, obviously about to run for the ship’s ramp when the comm crackled.

“ _Ember, come in._ _Can someone hear me?_ ”

“Juna?” Riko called, as he and Rusan leaned in. “Juna, _me’bana_?”

“ _I think Darro's jetpack was hit. It exploded. Deccol was standing next to him._ ”

Poe sucked in a breath and he heard Rusan’s leather gloves rasp against the chair as his grip tightened.

“Darro, is he ok?” he said, desperate.

“ _I- I think he’s breathing. But he’s unconscious. And Deccol is moving but she’s hurt. I don’t think her comm is working._ ”

Poe’s shoulders released and he sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair. Rusan let out a small relieved whimper behind him.

“Juna, you try to get Darro up to the deck. Rusan and I will meet you on the way,” Poe said sharply, before jerking the _Ember_ down and landing roughly. 

Riko grabbed him as they darted out of the cockpit.

“Dam’ika, no! One of the others will go!”

But Poe ripped his shoulder out of the man’s grasp and backed away. BB-8 shrieked from the co-pilot's chair.

“She’s _my_ partner,” he snarled. “I’m going. Beebs, stay here.”

  
  


Blood roared through his ears as he followed Rusan, sprinting through the shipyard corridors. Panic was still crawling up his throat, but at least he was doing something now.

Any stormtroopers they ran into were dead before they hit the floor, Rusan never missing a mark with ruthless skill. They turned a corner and Rusan stopped so abruptly, Poe almost crashed into the orange armour. 

“Juna! _Darro_!”

Rusan rushed to his husband, kneeling down.

“Where’s Deccol?” Poe asked, urgently.

“Down the hall, second right, then take the first left,” Juna answered, breathless.

“Ok, you two get Darro back to the ship. I’ll go get her.”

Poe raced down the shiny hallway, slowing only to peek around corners. When he got to the left and looked around the curve, his heart dropped. 

At the far end of the corridor, he could just make out Deccol’s silver armour.

Starting to jog forwards, he was about to call out to her, needing to see her move, needing to see that she was, in fact, alive.

But three stormtroopers burst around the corner, guns blazing. 

“There! Get him!”

Poe gasped and skidded to a halt, flinching as blaster bolts whizzed past. 

The troopers ran straight past the fallen Mandalorian as they followed him, and for that, Poe was thankful. If they regarded her as dead, she had a chance. 

He stumbled backwards as he returned fire, hastily attempting to get back behind the corner. But the troopers had other plans.

“ _Freeze_!”

The bark sounded behind him, accompanied by the clunking of boots and plastoid armour.

He froze, trembling. His heart was pounding as he turned his head slowly. Four behind, three in front. He drew in a slow breath, trying to stay calm.

“Hey guys,” he said with forced cheerfulness, despite the fear searing through him.

“Shut up,” one of them growled from behind him, roughly driving the end of his blaster into Poe’s back. “Drop your blaster and put your hands up.”

He scowled but did what the trooper said. His blaster clattered onto the ground and he raised his arms to his head slowly.

As long as they didn’t bother with Deccol, he couldn’t care less about what happened to him.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations:  
> K’oyacyi - [can mean ‘cheers’ or ‘be safe’] (literally means ‘stay alive’)  
> Oya’cye. Ky’ram. Mare’cye. Darasuum. Oya! Oya! - Life. Death. Revelation. Eternity. Let’s live! Let’s hunt!  
> Shabuir - [similar to ‘jerk’ but stronger. More like 'cunt' or 'fucker']  
> me'bana - What Happened?  
> ooooh, look at that! a cliff hanger ;)
> 
> don't forget to drop a Kudo or comment if you're enjoying this :)  
> \- Iye


	14. Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of Day 4 on Corellia  
> Departure from Corellia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[Please check the tags for possible TWs.]**

***

**[** **_“Shut up,” one of them growled from behind him, roughly driving the end of his blaster into Poe’s back. “Drop your blaster and put your hands up.”_ **

**_He scowled but did what the trooper said. His blaster clattered onto the ground and he raised his arms to his head slowly._ **

**_As long as they didn’t bother with Deccol, he couldn’t care less about what happened to him._** **]**

***

It was as if she had heard his thoughts and decided to do something stupid anyway.

“Hey! _Hut’uune_!”

The troopers twisted around, blasters powering up.

Poe resisted the urge to cry out. 

No! What was she thinking?

She was trying to drag herself up, leaning heavily against the wall.

“Bring that scum here,” the trooper snapped impatiently from behind him. 

“And you," he snarled at Poe, "you get down!”

He aimed a rough kick and Poe’s legs buckled under him. His knees hit the floor painfully, the shock jarring up his legs as he watched two troopers drag Deccol towards them. 

He curled his lip at seeing them handle her so roughly. But he didn’t say anything, afraid that they would respond even more harshly.

They flung her into the centre, close to Poe. Immediately, he grabbed her arm, pulling her near to help her sit up. 

It was clear she was injured. He could hear ragged breaths crackling from her helmet, and worry tightened his chest again.

“Are you ok?” he breathed.

There were vague sounds of the troopers saying something behind him, but he was focusing on her.

“Well, I’m not dead,” she whispered. “Stay close.”

“What?” he mumbled, frowning.

She seized him without warning, pulling him towards her with unexpected strength. She gripped the back of his neck and drew his face down into her shoulder. 

Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her back.

There was a mechanical click and whine behind his ear from her vambrace, and out of nowhere, high pitched whistles sounded, swirling around them. 

He tightened his arms around her and clamped his eyes shut at the noise, only to notice the sounds of bodies crumpling around them seconds later. Jerking his head up, he gazed at the dead troopers lying in a heap with wide eyes. Hazy smoke clouded the corridor around them.

“What the…”

“I heard you had a run-in with Darro’s vambraces earlier,” she said softly. 

He turned to look into her visor slowly, his cheek brushing the side of her helmet.

“Well, this,” she mumbled, tilting her head to the mess circling them, “this was a run-in with mine.”

“I thought we were dead,” he breathed.

She was still holding his shirt and the back of his neck.

“The odds of you dying drops sharply if I’m anywhere nearby.”

His arms were still around her.

“Oh,” he huffed, raising an eyebrow for a moment. “Does it now?”

He wished he could see her face. She was probably smiling.

His comm beeped and they both twitched, withdrawing their arms hastily.

His face flushed as he tugged the comm out of his pocket.

“ _Poe? Poe, come in._ ”

“I’m- we’re here. We’re heading up. Just ran into some trouble,” he said into the comm, scrambling to his feet.

“ _Ok. We just got Darro on board_ ,” said Rusan. 

He was speaking brusquely but they could hear a tremor in his voice.

“ _There’s fighting going on outside. You need to hurry._ ”

“We're on our way.”

“My blaster,” she mumbled, pointing down the hall so where she had been lying.

“I'll get it.”

He slipped the comm back into his belt as he jogged over to grab her blaster before returning and kneeling down to help Deccol up.

“I don’t think I can stand.”

Her voice was weak, a little croaky. She slumped against him with an arm around his waist instead of his shoulders because of the height difference.

“That’s fine. I’ve got you. Just hold on. Where are you hurt?” he asked as they began shuffling towards the deck. They both had a blaster in a hand, just in case.

“I just got my bell rung.”

He glanced anxiously at the top of her helmet. That could mean anything from a bruise to brain damage.

“Darro, is he ok?”

“He’s... He's alive,” he answered.

She didn’t reply but Poe could practically feel the waves of guilt rolling off of her.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, gently. 

Saying those words to her jerked his memory back to a time where everyone used to say it to him and he swallowed, suddenly uneasy at the hypocrisy.

“You weren’t there.”

He didn’t know how to reply. So they continued in silence.

Their way up was completely clear. When they emerged onto the deck, they were greeted by the fighting Rusan mentioned. The stormtroopers were pressing forward with an effective offence, with the Mandalorians defending the _Ember_. Luckily, Deccol and Poe ended up behind the Mandalorian lines.

Riko, who was hovering several meters in the air, spotted them first.

“Get in! We’ll cover you!”

As the two partners clumsily trudged to the entry ramp, the Mandalorians began scooting back as well, following them.

BB-8 shut the ramp the second the last was on board.

“Dam’ika! Go!”

Another Mando called Rysi took Poe’s role of supporting Deccol and he raced up to the cockpit with his droid to rapidly flick his switches and buttons. 

The shipyard shuddered violently under them as the _Ember_ lifted off and he grinned for a second. Deccol must’ve detonated her charges. Perfect timing.

He set a fast path back to the city. The rest of the covert would be waiting at the docking pad to be picked up. 

Poe desperately hoped nothing had gone wrong over there. 

The flight was short, just fifteen minutes. He was stiff with tension, itching to get into hyperspace so he could get down to the lower deck. 

He landed smoothly, relieved to see the small crowd circling the docking pad as he approached. BB-8 rumbled down to open the ramp. There was a babble of commotion from below as Poe fidgeted restlessly in his chair, impatient to get off the planet.

A minute later, Riko called up to him, saying they were all in, and Poe once again eased the ship up and accelerated into the vacuum of space. 

Getting the coordinates of Mandalore from BB-8, they were in hyperspace less than a minute later.

And Poe slumped back in his chair, letting out a relieved breath and running fingers through his hair. Before bounding down to find Deccol.

The lower deck was filled to the brim with people. But it was unusually quiet. He glanced around, frowning. People nodded at him in greeting, but there was no joy, no excited gleam in their eyes. He couldn’t even hear the children making their usual noise.

Then it hit him and his heart dropped.

Darro.

He darted into the cargo-hold on his right. People looked up as he burst in.

There, on a blanket in the middle of the room was Darro. His armour had been stripped off his chest. The Mando called Lana was kneeling next to him, with Rusan on the other side. 

The room was so silent, Darro’s rasps seemed to echo. He was barely breathing.

Lana was scanning him with some device Poe didn’t recognise.

Someone touched his shoulder and he flinched, turning to see Riko. The older man gently tugged him out of the room, to stand in the corridor.

They were silent for a second.

“He’s not going to make it. Is he?”

Riko bowed his head and grief exploded in Poe’s stomach. 

He brought a trembling fist to his mouth and sagged backwards, into the wall behind him. Something pressed against his leg and he looked down. BB-8 was pressing into his calf again. Poe squeezed his eyes shut as they stung suddenly.

“Dam’ika. Find Avara,” Riko said softly as Poe looked up. “She disappeared soon after you got onboard. After she saw Darro. If she’ll talk to anyone, it’ll be you.”

Poe just nodded numbly and watched the man turn and walk away, shoulders heavy.

***

He looked everywhere. 

Lower deck. All six cabins. Both cargo-holds. The kitchen. The cargo-lift room. The two loading rooms. The engineering room. The two mechanical rooms. Even the refresher.

Upper deck. The life-support compartments. All four fuel compartments. The shield generator. The weapon control rooms. The reactor. Even the cockpit.

BB-8 was looking too. Poe was starting to get frantic, walking faster and beginning to look around wildly. Everyone seemed to know what he was doing, pacing around, but no one he approached had seen her.

Until a small hand grabbed his arm as he rushed past the gallery for the fifth time. Naura.

She must’ve seen the panic on his face. Her eyes were watery and her lip trembled slightly. 

Just like him.

She slipped her hand into his and silently pulled him to the back of the ship. In the lift room, she pointed at the door of the main engineering room.

He was about to open his mouth, to say he’d looked there already. But she looked so sure. 

So he nodded instead and brushed the pad of his thumb against Naura’s chin in thanks. He tried to smile too, but it didn’t work.

She slipped away as he turned to the engineering door.

The door rattled as it slid open. It was dark, the only light being the various drive indicators, blinking orange and blue.

Poe shuffled in slowly, straining his eyes. The engineering room was big, but the available space was not.

“Deccol?”

The noise of his whisper seemed harsh in the unnatural silence of the ship and he winced, closing the door behind him.

"Deccol?"

This time his murmur was inadequate, the vibration of the room blurring it out.

He stepped in further, leaning forward to look behind the ion drive. He was about to pull away when he realised that some blue and orange lights were reflecting off of something. He knelt down, scooted into the tight space and stretched out a hand. It hit metal and cloth.

There she was.

She had crawled into the small space between the ship thruster and ion drive and was sitting there, curled up. Almost like a child.

He wriggled around noisily, attempting to follow her into the tight space.

“Go away, Dameron.”

Poe ignored this and continued to squirm in until his shoulder was against hers.

“Dameron, please.”

He heard her voice crumple and he felt his heart break, just a little. 

He turned, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably so he was facing her and reached out. His fingers curled under the edge of her helmet and he lifted it gently.

Deccol grabbed his arm with a sharp breath, stopping him.

“N-no, don’t-”

Her hand was trembling on his arm. 

“Hey,” he whispered. “Let me.”

She loosened her grip and he continued to carefully pry the helmet off. It unlocked with a mechanical hiss and he set it down on the floor next to him.

He sat there for a moment, just silent, listening to her unsteady breathing. Then he spoke.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

She didn’t say anything.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was _our_ mission,” she choked. “I didn’t want them there. They weren’t supposed to be there.” She took a breath. “He wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Her voice sounded small and distant, as if she had her head turned away from him.

“They’d made up their minds. Riko was stubborn.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “But I should’ve been more stubborn.”

Poe closed his eyes, stiffening, nerves suddenly bundling in his stomach. He almost felt sick, but he opened his mouth anyway.

“I used to be a pilot for the New Republic. It was Karé, Iolo, me and Muran. I was the commander of our squadron. It was a routine patrol. Everything was normal. Until we heard a distress call from a freighter.”

His voice began to shake and he clenched his hands to stop them trembling. This whole story had played over and over in his head millions of times since it happened, but he’d never said it out loud before.

“When we got there, it was the First Order. They were hijacking the freighter. The four of us were engaged by eight TIE Fighters.” 

Poe’s chest was constricting painfully as the memory exploded into his view. The words were coming out in gasps, but he continued to force them out.

“But we were too late. The freighter jumped to hyperspace and Muran’s X-wing was shattered in it’s wave. While I watched.”

He could see it. The way Muran’s fighter had splintered to pieces right in front of him. He remembered how he’d sat there in his X-wing, watching the remaining First Order ships disappear into hyperspace, floating debris the only sign that there had been a skirmish.

It was only when he opened his eyes to the darkness of the engineering room that he realised his heart was pounding.

“Dameron?”

He parted his lips to reply but there was no air for him to use.

She was saying something but he was outside, in the vacuum of space. 

No air, no sound. Just him. Him and debris. There were blue and orange stars blinking around him.

But he didn’t want to die.

He jerked, flailing, fighting to get air. His hand stung duly as it caught on something. The space around him was too small, it was suffocating him. He kicked out, pushing himself backwards, to where he could feel more space. 

Space was good. It meant air. Right?

So why was there still none?

His skin was burning, heat eating him. But he was shivering? It didn’t make sense.

His back hit something hard, unyielding in the mad scramble for space and he froze. He was trapped. His chest was still hammering. 

Something cold touched his face. It was gentle and soothing through the scorching he was feeling. He focused on it. Then there was another, on the nape of his neck.

Then he heard something, right next to his ear.

“Poe?”

He strained, trying to hear it more. 

“Poe, listen. Focus on me.”

It was a familiar, trustworthy sound. 

“ _Udesiir. Gar morut’yc_ , Poe. You’re safe. _Haalur_. Breathe. I’ve got you. _Udesiir_.”

He sucked in a gasp, trembling with the effort. He knew that voice.

“Yes, good. Just breathe, Poe. Focus on breathing.”

He reached out blindly, trying to find the source of the voice. Something pressed against his searching hand.

“Here, I’m here.”

He clung to it desperately and heaved another breath. It felt like another hand.

“There, that’s it. All you have to do is breathe. I've got you. You’re safe.”

It was Deccol.

“Poe? Breathe with me. I know you can hear me. Follow me.”

So he did. He tried. He forced his chest to expand when she whispered ‘in’, and relaxed when she said ‘out’.

***

It had been a while since she had said either word and breathing was no longer a fight for him. His forehead was on her shoulder. He didn’t know when he’d leaned forward onto her. 

Maybe she had pulled him. Like she had when the stormtroopers had surrounded them. 

She was so perfectly still. Her hand was still on the back of his neck. The other was still clenched in his. Tightly, he realised and loosened his grip. 

He would have lifted his head off her shoulder too, but it was so heavy. 

“You loved him,” she murmured in his ear. “Muran.”

Poe’s throat tightened as he nodded into her shoulder.

“I never got to tell him.”

"And you're telling me because…”

For a second he couldn't reply, grief choking him.

“Because now I get that it wasn't my fault. Like this- this wasn’t yours.”

Hot tears soaked into her shoulder at the admission, and something seemed to lift off his shoulders.

Fingers that weren't his, carded gently through his hair and he shook violently as he cried.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> hut'uun(e) - coward(s) [This is one of the worst insults a Mandalorian will use]  
> Udesiir - calm down  
> Gar morut’yc, Poe - You're safe, Poe.  
> Haalur - Breathe
> 
> writing this one certainly brought up some old emotions for me :(  
> As I've only ever had a panic attack once before (years ago), I used my experience along with some extra research to help write the last scene.  
> And yes, those were Mandalorian Whistling Birds she used, as seen in Episode 3 of The Mandalorian :D
> 
> Lemme know what's going through your head in the comments,  
> \- Iye


	15. Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corellia to Mandalore

***

Poe was almost falling asleep, despite the uncomfortable position, as something thumped against the door from the other side. His face was warm in Deccol's shoulder. The tears had dried long ago leaving his cheeks feeling slightly stiff.

He felt her head turn to look over her shoulder, slowly as to not dislodge him. 

Poe knew that thump.

“It’s Beebs,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

“Come in.”

The door slid open and his droid rolled in hesitantly with a concerned beep.

“Poe just had a panic attack. He’s alright.”

He opened his eyes in slight surprise, realising his partner had understood the droid. 

BB-8 whistled.

“No, I’m ok Bee.”

Poe lifted his head sharply, neck twinging in protest at the sudden movement.

“You haven’t been looked at?” he asked incredulously. His voice was croaky. “Didn’t you hit your head?”

“The healer, Lana, was looking at Darro. I- I didn’t want to interrupt.”

He sighed, softening. 

“I’ll have a look then. I know basic medical stuff. C’mon.”

They stood up slowly and Poe realised how exhausted he was as he swayed slightly. All his energy had sapped away with the panic attack. But he pushed the exhaustion away. 

He had to help his partner first.

Deccol grabbed her helmet and quickly slipped it on in the darkness before leading the way to the refresher. Her walking was much steadier now than it had been on the shipyard. 

The ‘fresher was thankfully empty when they walked in. He swallowed thickly, feeling guilty again when he remembered what he did in there just earlier that day.

Pushing it to the back of his mind, he gently pulled her helmet off again and gasped. 

Thick trickles of blood had streaked down and dried across darkly bruised skin. Her hair was dark and slick, as if she’d used her head to mop up a pool of blood.

“It probably looks worse than it is,” she mumbled, trying to shrug it off.

“Idiot,” he hissed, and she glared at him in reply. 

“We’ll see how bad it is when we wash all the blood out. It’s soaked through all of your hair.”

“I can do it myself,” she protested, batting his hands away as he tried to pull her towards a sink. “You should go eat something, Poe. And sleep. You look pale.”

Poe scoffed even though he knew she was right. 

He’d glanced at himself in the mirror as they’d walked in. Red eyes and a pale face that looked even paler due to the dark stubble he'd allowed to grow in.

“BeeBee?” he questioned over his shoulder as he fixed her with what he hoped was a stern look. 

There was a beep in reply.

“Get us some food to eat in a short while, would ya?”

Poe was trying to imitate a particular glare Leia had given him after a mission where he’d recklessly blown one of his X-wing engines in a dangerous manoeuvre.

It must have worked because Deccol’s gaze buckled under his glower, lowering to study her boots.

“Aren’t you feeling lightheaded at all? It does look like a lot of blood.”

This wasn’t how he’d imagined running his fingers through her hair for the first time, but he supposed it was better than nothing. At least he probably wasn’t looking so pale anymore. 

But his worry outgrew his concealed shyness as he found the source of the blood. 

“No, I’m fine. Head wounds always bleed a lot.”

She squirmed under him as he carefully parted her hair around a gash above her ear, leading up to her hairline. 

Poe winced as he examined it. It was a matted mess of hair and congealed blood.

“Your helmet probably needs a clean.”

She just grunted in reply and as he backed away towards the gallery.

“It looks like it’s stopped bleeding. Stay there, I’ll bring the med-pack.”

When he got back with the heavy kit she was struggling to inspect her head in the mirror, the angle making it hard. 

“C’mon, let's get this cleaned,” he said, as he knelt down and pulled the medical kit open, searching through for the cleaning wipes and a bacta patch. 

It was hard for him, cleaning her wound. 

He’d hesitated at first, remembering the stinging agony he’d felt when she had cleaned his scrapes after the fight on Naboo. His own faded bruises prickled uncomfortably at the thought.

He held a side of her head with one hand, the other dabbing and wiping as she twitched and flinched in his hold. He hated putting Deccol through the pain, every squirm and whimper making him want to recoil. He could feel every jerk as he held her head steady. The way her eyes squeezed shut and her leg jigged a desperate rhythm below her as she tried to bear it.

Anger surged in him. He hated it.

A whole painstaking, agonising minute later, he was finally done. He pulled away and flung the abusive wipe into the trash compactor panel as she sagged back against the sink. She looked pale.

Quickly, he ripped open a bacta patch and carefully held it against her. He knew the bacta would be calming, soothing the stinging of the disinfectant. Her shoulders drooped, the tension releasing, and she opened her eyes with a small sigh. Poe felt his own churning discomfort fade with hers.

“Ok, let’s wash all the blood out of your hair.”

Poe dumped the dirty bacta patch as she turned and leaned forward over the edge of the basin to stick her head under the tap, letting the water run over her head. 

It ran red, blood swirling down into the drain as they combed through her hair, avoiding the injury and making sure no water ran near it.

When the runoff was no longer red, Poe grabbed a clean towel off a hook. 

There was an unusual surge of protectiveness in his gut, as she stood silently while he ruffled her hair, gently drying it.

Then he began unrolling bandages around her head, helping her pin a fresh bacta patch to her injury. After tying up the loose ends he stepped back to appreciate his handiwork.

She raised an eyebrow. 

“Done?”

“Unless you’re hurt somewhere else and you’re not telling me,” he said, sharply raising an eyebrow.

“No,” she grumbled, “that was it.” 

She looked up at him and her brows furrowed. 

“Poe, you look like you’re gonna collapse.” 

She gripped his arm to steady him. 

Had he swayed? 

“You’ve no energy left. You need to sleep. Or eat.” Deccol blinked. “Or both. Bee was getting you food. Let’s go find him.”

Poe reluctantly agreed, though privately. 

He glanced at himself in the mirror again. The last time he had seen himself this pale was when he was twelve, suffering from some illness he’d picked up.

She led him out, still holding his arm, and sat him down at the kitchen table. The little droid had indeed left some food out. A couple of ration bars and the last bit of Naboo’s stew that still hadn’t gone off. 

Poe all but collapsed onto the bench, his head suddenly feeling as heavy as BB-8. A noise that could be described as a squeak slipped out of him as he placed his face in the hands, leaning onto the table. Sheer will was the only thing keeping him from passing out, he knew it. 

What confused him was how he’d managed to keep it at bay for so long while in the ‘fresher.

“Poe?” 

Her voice sounded distant. He forced himself to lift his head. She was sitting right next to him, brows still furrowed. She held something under his nose. 

A flask. Water, most likely.

He took it, but his arms felt sluggish. She must’ve picked up on it because she grabbed it over his hand and gently guided it to his lips herself. She was focused on carefully positioning it properly against his mouth. So he focused his hazy gaze on her as he sipped. 

Then it hit him. She’d been calling him Poe this whole time. Not Dameron. _Poe_.

The realisation brought a flicker of warmth to his chest.

When he pulled his head back with a small grunt, she set the flask down on the table.

“Are you going to eat something?”

It was her turn to look stern. 

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly, once again remembering Leia.

“I probably should,” he conceded.

So she nudged the leftover spoonfuls of the stew towards him and opened a ration bar for herself as he slowly started to eat.

Poe could hear the faint buzz of people from the cargo-holds. They were no longer silent, and he was thankful for that. He focused on the comfort of the stew, trying to distract himself from the lump in his throat that would swell every time he remembered Darro.

So he turned his thoughts to his pilots back on D’Qar. 

He remembered his last night there, seeing Iolo and Snap paying Jess and Karé for the lost bet, hearing their jeering and yelling. It brought a slow smile to his face. 

They were so rowdy. He missed them. 

He thought of the stupid stunts he’d pull during their routine patrols of the Ileenium System, just to hear their laughing and whooping crackle through the comms. The way Jess and he would daringly dive at each other high above D'Qar's base because they knew people would be watching from below. They’d receive compliments from random people around the base later.

He missed that elation he’d feel, swooping around, completely free.

He finished the last scoop of stew and looked to his side, to Deccol. She was staring at the table, having also zoned out. 

But going by the pinched look around her eyes and the way her fingers were tapping restlessly, she wasn’t enjoying her thoughts as much as he’d enjoyed his.

“Hey.”

His mumble broke her out of her stupor. 

“You should go and sleep. I remember how tired you were after Naboo,” he said lightly, trying to tease a smile out of her. 

The memory made him smile. 

But she didn’t. 

She just shook her head, still gazing at the table. 

“You should sleep. I want to talk to Rusan first.”

Of course. Even he wanted to. 

“I should too,” he murmured. Nerves burned in his stomach at the prospect and he shifted uncomfortably.

“No, you need to sleep. You’re dead on your feet, Poe.”

Poe probably would’ve smiled at hearing his first name from her if they’d been talking about something else.

He was just opening his mouth to reply when someone spoke from behind them.

“Actually, I was just coming to look for you.”

They twisted around sharply, startled. 

Rusan was standing at the entrance of the gallery. He hesitated there for a second before walking to the table and sitting across from them. 

Poe felt Deccol go rigid next to him and he momentarily pressed against her shoulder.

The three of them sat in silence, all of them searching for words. There was a crackle of static from Rusan before he reached up and removed his helmet, a metallic thunk echoing through the room as he carefully set in on the table in front of him.

The man, or boy really, he was so young, looked wrecked as he stared at the table. His already dark skin was darker under his eyes, accentuating the red within. His eyes flicked around the table, searching as if he’d find words there.

Deccol found her words first.

“Have you rested? You should,” she said gently, reaching over the narrow table to briefly touch his cheek.

“I- Riko tried to make me. But I can’t sleep. I have to... I have to wait until...”

Poe knew what he meant, heart twisting painfully. 

Next to him, Deccol nodded as well.

Rusan looked up, directly at Deccol. He was steeling himself to say something. He glanced fleetingly at Poe then focused back on her.

“You…”

Poe stiffened, ready to defend his partner from a possible accusation.

“You know…” 

He sighed, rubbing his brow, struggling to form his thoughts into words. “This has happened to you,” he said finally, looking at Deccol again. “You know what…”

He trailed off again, clenching his fists and glaring at the wall, suddenly furious.

“Yes.”

He focused on his partner when she replied, seeing Rusan turn as well, out of the corner of his eye.

“I know.”

She almost seemed to deflate as she held Rusan’s gaze.

“Riko told me,” he mumbled, eyes returning to the table.

“I thought he might.”

Rusan nodded.

“And… and you’re ok.”

The pain in Deccol’s eyes was obvious and Poe suddenly felt like an intruder. This wasn’t his conversation.

But he couldn’t just up and leave. So he stayed and watched as his partner begin to crumple under emotions.

Her eyes closed and her jaw clenched.

“It takes time,” she whispered finally, looking up. 

There were tears in her eyes and Poe’s insides tightened. 

He wanted to wrap himself around her and just hold. But he just leaned against her shoulder again, offering silent support. 

She pressed back, and the pressure inside him eased slightly.

“And this,” Rusan said suddenly, “this wasn’t your fault. Don’t feel guilty.” He looked at Poe then. “Either of you. This may have been your mission, but it’s _our_ fight.”

Deccol flinched at this, looking like she was going to protest for a second, before giving way and dropping her gaze to stare angrily at the table.

Poe, on the other hand, felt a trickle of relief slip through him.

***

Afterwards, both Rusan and Deccol took him into an empty cabin to sleep. It was one of the cabins further back in the ship, with two beds. After some urging from Rusan, Deccol agreed to sleep as well, in the other bunk. 

Poe wasn’t able to keep his eyes open long. The last thing he remembered seeing, was Deccol carefully pulling off her cuirass and neatly leaning it against the wall.

When he woke up to an empty cabin almost twelve hours later, they told him Darro had gone to the stars.

**✧✧✧**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid exam season is starting for me. It's going to be harder to write at the same speed I've been doing this whole time, so I'm sorry if some chapters end up coming a bit late. I hope you people are doing ok with this whole pandemic business. Stay safe guys!
> 
> Also, 30k words!!!?? Damn, I'm proud of myself :D  
>  **I have absolutely no idea if people have actually read up to here, so leave a comment if you're enjoying the read :)**
> 
>   
> Much love,  
> \- Iye


	16. Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Day 1 on Mandalore

***

For the last ten hours of the journey, the _Ember_ was filled with a contradictory atmosphere of grief and anticipation. 

Poe learned that none of them, apart from Deccol, Riko and a couple of other elders, had ever been to Mandalore before. They were, essentially, coming home for the first time ever. 

Moving around the ship was a hassle with the crowd. The _Ember_ wasn’t designed to manage more than ten people. And right then, there were more than thirty.

The corridor of the lower deck wasn’t wide enough for two people to comfortably walk past each other, _definitely_ not wide enough to accommodate two walking suits of armour.

Accessing the gallery was a constant struggle as it was always teeming with hungry people, as all the food was stored there in the pantry. And there was often a short line outside the ‘fresher, crowding the narrow hallway even more.

The younger children were once again loud and noisy. Their racket seemed to put the rest of the covert at ease, though annoying others. 

Some of them were excitedly pestering Riko with questions about Mandalore. 

Poe watched them for a while, envious that they were unaware of the despondency amongst the covert but glad they didn’t have to face it like the others. The older children had been hit harder.

Poe was sitting in the cockpit, in the blue glow of hyperspace, when Naura crawled into the co-pilot’s chair next to him.

“ _Su’cuy_.”

She smiled slightly at his attempted use of Mando’a.

“ _Su’cuy_.”

“Are you alright? How are you?”

“I’m ok,” she replied, studying the various buttons and switches in front of her. “Do you know what all these do?”

She didn’t seem to want to talk about the bantha in the room, so he obliged.

“Yeah.”

“ _All_ of them?”

“Uhuh.” 

He smiled at her wide-eyed, slightly disbelieving look.

“Ok…” she looked around, eyes scanning the dashboard. “What does _that_ do?” 

She pointed at the largest lever positioned in the centre, between the pilot and co-pilot’s chair.

“That activates the hyperdrive and sends us into hyperspace,” he replied, gestures to the swirling blue and white outside the viewport.

She hummed thoughtfully and Poe waited for her next question.

“Is this your favourite ship?”

He made a face for her benefit, wrinkling his nose. 

“ _This_ stinky, old ship?”

She grinned.

“No, this isn’t my favourite. I normally fly an X-wing. That's my favourite.”

“An X-wing?”

“Yeah, it’s a really small starfighter. It only has one chair, for one pilot. And there's space for BeeBee-Eight to sit behind me.”

“What do you do with it?”

“Normally? We can help protect other, bigger ships. My friends also fly X-wings. We fly together. Sometimes we fight other starfighters.”

“Like the First Order?”

He nodded. 

“What do you know about them?”

“The adults say they’re like the Empire. And the Empire was bad.”

“They were pretty bad,” he agreed, nodding again. “My parents fought them,” he said, unable to stop the pride leaching into his voice.

“And _you’re_ doing the same!” 

She seemed delighted to make the connection. 

Poe laughed and nodded as a voice called from the lower deck

“Naura! _Epar ca’nara_!”

She vaulted out of the chair with a rushed, “ _ret’_!” and Poe smiled to himself, feeling lighter than he had for some time.

Some while later, he got up from the cockpit to seek Deccol out. But he was stopped by one of the older children. It was one of the boys who had been teaching him to throw his knife, back on Corellia. He told Poe that all the Mandalorians were in the cargo-hold, cleaning and polishing Darro’s armour. Apparently it was a custom.

Poe returned to the cockpit, once again weighed down.

***

The _Ember_ would be exiting hyperspace within minutes.

Everyone was bustling around, once again gathering belongings and making sure they had everything, ready to unload. The younger warriors were fussing over their armour and weapons and jetpacks, making sure they looked their best. 

Poe couldn't blame them, even he had pulled out his special jacket. It was an old leather one with the Rebel Alliance's Starbird symbol on his shoulder. It used to be his mother’s.

Riko and Juna were with Deccol in the cargo-hold, deep in conversation. Poe’s partner was back in her gleaming silver armour. She also had her jetpack on.

He gave them a nod as he passed by, heading to the refresher, and received three in return. 

But he was rudely hurried out of the ‘fresher by the sound of BB-8 shrieking at him from outside. People were watching the little droid, amused as he yelled at Poe through the door. 

He burst out. 

“ _What_!?”

The droid trilled at him scoldingly before barrelling up to the cockpit. 

Poe sighed, rolling his eyes. 

This gathered some chuckles from the surrounding Mandos. 

“What did it say?” someone called to him as he followed his droid to the cockpit.

“We’re exiting hyperspace,” he called back. 

A lively babble of murmurs floated up after him. 

Poe settled in his pilot’s chair, fingers flying over the dashboard as he prepared the release from hyperspace.

“We’re arriving?” Deccol leaned over her chair, her helmet tucked under an arm. Her face was serious but her eyes were glinting excitedly.

“Yeah, just about.”

There was a fast patter of footsteps and Naura flew into the room, ducking under Deccol to jump into the co-pilot chair.

“Can I watch?” 

The question came out as a high pitched squeal.

Deccol grinned, shooting Poe an affectionate glance which made him squirm.

“Course you can.”

Poe reached over to flick a switch, blaring a low alarm through the ship, alerting people to hold themselves steady as the hyperdrive disengaged.

“Here,” he said, beckoning the thrilled kid next to him and placing his hand on the large lever. “Hold it with me.” 

She placed her tiny hand over his as he slowly pulled back.

The churning blue faded into white streaks as they pulled out of hyperspace with a jolt, and Naura’s mouth dropped open as she stared out of the viewport.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a sandy yellow planet had appeared.

Mandalore.

There was an explosion of whispers behind him and he turned to see the cockpit was crowded full of Mandalorians, as many they could fit. A few kids were desperately squeezing their way to the front, crawling into the two control chairs behind the pilot seats to eagerly watch as the _Ember_ descended into Mandalore’s atmosphere.

They were heading to the coordinates of a city that Deccol had given him. Sundari, she’d called it. Mandalore’s capital.

They broke through the clouds and a large dark dome emerged into view, among the yellow sand.

The children whooped from behind Poe and he had to grin at their excitement. 

There was a shout from below deck as they approached the city and the children groaned in reply, some complaining, but they scurried off, followed by the other Mandos. Deccol remained, still leaning against Poe’s chair.

“The holoprojector,” he said, suddenly remembering. “When should we send a message back to D’Qar?”

“Tonight?”

He nodded. 

“How long are we staying?”

This has been bothering him slightly.

“Not long,” she said. 

She sounded a bit wistful and Poe felt sorry for her. 

“We do have a mission to get on with.”

He gently lowered the _Ember_ onto the planet surface with a small jerk, sand kicking up and thrumming against the hull as he powered the ship down, not too far from the edge of the dome. Deccol had said not to land too close, as to not alarm the Mandalorians in the city.

He got out of his chair to see Deccol darting down the cockpit ramp, pulling her helmet on. There was a hiss from the lower deck, BB-8 must’ve been opening the ramp. 

Deccol pushed through the restless crowd of Mandalorians waiting at the ship entrance and strode down the ramp. Riko followed her and the rest of the warriors followed him. Poe waited on the ship ramp, with the children and the few Mandalorian spouses, watching intently.

The air was dry, gusts of wind blew sand across his skin, stinging his neck and face. He watched Deccol as she continued forward and then stopped, lifting an arm to point a fist at the grey sky. Two sharp bursts of fire flared from her lifted vambrace and she lowered her arm, waiting with her hands on her hips.

Poe swallowed against a lump in his throat as he remembered Darro showing him the flamethrower he had.

Almost out of nowhere, they materialised from the shadow of the great dome. Some were airborne in jetpacks, others were walking below. Dark capes billowed in the sand-ridden wind from behind a few of them.

The children around Poe began chittering restlessly as the Mandos landed in front of Deccol. Riko stepped up to her side and Poe guessed they were being introduced.

The kids, losing their patience, bolted off the ship ramp, barrelling towards the city, shrieking.

There was a faint smattering of laughter from the small crowd of warriors as some of them moved to intercept the kids’ path. Poe grinned and the rest of them waiting by the ramp finally walked forward. More Mandalorians were landing around them. There was a group clustering around Deccol. 

And suddenly feeling unsure of his place in the whole situation, he hung back, pretending to walk around the _Ember_ as if he was inspecting it, glancing back at Deccol every few seconds. She remained surrounded.

Then someone cried out, announcing someone’s arrival, and he turned to see three Mandalorians landing gracefully onto the sand in a neat formation. 

Poe frowned. The one in the middle seemed familiar.

That’s when he realised. The familiarity was in the design of the Mando’s silver armour.

He watched from under the ship’s hull, squinting through the sand as Deccol broke away from her group and crashed into the larger Mando. A small smile slipped over his face as he saw them touch helmets, and he thought about his own father. Maybe after this mission, he could go visit Yavin IV.

The warmth he was feeling was abruptly quashed as something cold and hard pushed into the back of his neck.

“You’re not _Mando’ad_ ,” came a snarl.

Poe turned slowly, raising his hands slightly.

A bristling Mandalorian in shiny dark blue armour stood in front of him, roughly pushing the barrel of a blaster into the soft flesh of Poe’s neck.

“Who are you?”

“I’m the pilot of this ship,” Poe snapped, scowling at the visor.

He vaguely heard BB-8 scream in the distance from behind him.

“You’re not welcome here, _outsider_.”

A rush of jetpack roared from behind Poe and silver shoved past his shoulder, charging into the dark blue Mandalorian.

They tumbled, flying into the sand, wrestling furiously as Poe stared, shocked at the aggression. There was a sharp crack as a blue vambrace collided with the side of Deccol’s helmet and the Mando pinned Deccol into the sand. Poe gasped, remembering her wound. 

He lunged at Blue, tackling and throwing him off Deccol. Metal snapped against Poe’s jaw, sharply knocking his head to the side, disorienting him for a second. When he came to, he found himself pinned into the sand with a sharp knee grinding into his sternum.

Silver glinted above him, but it wasn’t Deccol. 

A knife had extended from the end of a vambrace and was poised above Poe, prepared to plunge into his throat. He cried out, thrashing wildly in panic as the knife moved down, towards him. 

But something caught the wrist as it descended, and Blue was jerked off with a grunt. 

Poe scrambled backwards, propping himself up on his elbows, chest heaving as adrenaline ripped through him. BB-8 skidded to a halt in front of Poe, between him and Blue, throwing a small wave of sand aside in his sharp movement. 

Blue jumped to his feet, furiously trying to untangle his wrist from two grappling lines, one of which was connected to Deccol’s vambrace. The other was connected to another silver suit of armour. 

Deccol’s father.

“ _Shabuir_ ,” Deccol hissed at Blue, from where she was still lying in the sand, gripping her forearm desperately.

“ _Ke’gev_!”

The two Mandalorians turned to Deccol’s father at his shout, as he was walking closer. Blue deflated submissively as the older man released his grappling line, dropping his shoulders and stepping back.

“Can’t you see he’s not a threat,” the man growled as he untangled Deccol’s line from the offending vambrace.

Blue ducked his head angrily, stubbornly saying nothing.

Another Mandalorian landed heavily behind Deccol’s father. This one’s armour was the same blue, but he was bigger and broader than the one who’d attacked Poe. 

Probably Blue’s father, Poe guessed to himself.

“Penn? What is this?”

Other Mandos were watching.

“He attacked my partner!” Deccol snapped as she sat up. “ _Unprovoked_!”

“I wanted to know who he was!” 

“Yeah? You don’t need a blaster for that!”

Poe saw the two senior Mandos exchange looks as the younger ones screeched at each other.

“ _He_ had a blaster!”

“But did he pull it?!”

“That’s _enough_.” 

Deccol’s father was quiet but his words rang with authority and Penn fell silent.

Deccol lowered her voice, but the fury in it was undeniable. 

“You even touch him again,” she snarled, “I’ll kill you.”

Poe almost shivered at her statement. He couldn’t pin down how it made him feel.

The others had turned to look at her. It was clear they were surprised by the outburst.

“I said, that’s enough.”

She fell silent, but the two youngest Mandos were obviously still glaring at each other through their visors. 

Then Penn turned and stomped away towards the city, receiving a light smack to the back of his helmet from his father as he passed by.

“ _Kaden’ika_ has been back for barely five minutes and you two are already squabbling,” Blue Senior said loudly, as he moved to pull Deccol to her feet. 

Deccol’s father similarly walked over and offered Poe a hand, and the younger man was pulled up by him. 

Suddenly daunted as he was face-to-face with the visor, Poe swallowed and shuffled his feet nervously.

“Not many would jump on a fully armed Mandalorian,” he told Poe softly, with a slight humoured air. 

It sounded like a compliment. 

“My name is Din. That-” he gestured to Blue Senior- “is Paz. You just met his son.”

“I’m Poe,” he replied, struggling to hide his nerves. “Dameron,” he added suddenly after a beat. “Poe Dameron.”

BB-8 beeped from next to his feet, announcing himself.

“And this is BeeBee-Eight.”

The man looked down, studying the small droid silently for a second before giving Poe a curt nod. Then he turned away, dark cape flapping behind him. Paz nodded at Poe politely as he turned to follow Din, leaving Poe and Deccol standing under the Ember.

“He doesn’t really like droids. But he won't mind Bee,” she called to Poe. “Are you ok?” 

She sounded concerned, even through her helmet’s modulation.

“Are you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he began to dust the sand off himself. “I saw you get clobbered pretty badly there.”

“Yeah. That wasn’t fun,” she mumbled, touching her wound through her helmet briefly. “You shouldn’t have interrupted though. I’ve almost missed bashing Penn around for the last few months.”

Poe grinned. 

“You two fight a lot?”

“Since we were children,” she replied as they walked after the two fathers. “I’ve lost count of the bloody noses we’ve given each other over the years. Funnily enough, our fathers also disliked each other when they were younger.”

“But now they’re friends?”

“Yeah. Paz is one of my father’s closest advisors.”

Poe was quiet for a second. 

“Is your father like the leader? King?”

Deccol chuckled. “No, not king. But yeah, he's the ruler. His title is _Mand’alor_.”

“ _Mand’alor_ ,” Poe echoed thoughtfully, trying to pronounce it the same way she did. Then he grinned.

“You never told me you were a princess.”

She turned on him as amusement fluttered through his chest.

“I just said he’s _not_ a king.”

Poe smirked. 

“Whatever you say.” 

He coughed into his fist, with an audible mutter of “princess” slipped in.

She punched his arm and he giggled.

“You remind me of Leia sometimes,” he said as they strolled. “If she was Mandalorian, she’d probably be exactly like you.”

Deccol looked at him. 

“You’re close to her. She’s your general but you call her Leia.”

He smiled to himself. 

“She used to be Auntie Leia at one point. My mother was quite close to her, and her brother. They came to Yavin a few times when I was young. And y’know what's funny?”

Deccol tilted her head at him questioningly. 

“My mother was assigned as Leia’s pilot for a few missions.”

There was a warm crackle of static from the helmet next to him. 

“I remember you mentioning that. Just like you’ve been assigned to me,” came the dry reply.

He stuck his chin out playfully.

They were quiet in comfortable silence for a while, before Deccol spoke.

“When did your mother die?”

Poe avoided her visor and frowned at Din and Paz's trail in the sand, briefly caught off guard. 

“When I was eight. She got sick.”

He felt a soft touch then, on his shoulder, and he lifted a corner of his mouth at his partner in acknowledgement.

“Is the ring hers?”

Poe was surprised she’d noticed his chain. “Yeah. Her wedding ring.”

Deccol just hummed.

“Paz called you something,” Poe said, unwilling to let the conversation trail off on that topic. “ _Kad-_ something. Is it a nickname?”

“ _Kaden’ika_? Yeah.” 

“What does it mean?”

She sighed, unimpressed.

“It sort of means Little Fury or Angry One.”

Poe scoffed, laughter slipping out. 

“Little Fury? Why?” 

“I guess you could say I wasn’t a particularly _bubbly_ kid.” 

Poe could hear a smirk in her voice. 

“And I ended up in a lot of fights. He’s called me that since the day I met him. After I punched Penn for the first time."

Poe laughed.

"I bet he’s already got a nickname for you. He just has to have a name for anyone significantly younger than him.”

Poe huffed, scuffing his boots into the sand happily as the domed city approached.

“Well, I hope it’s a good one.” 

He paused then, debating whether to ask her something, eventually deciding to go ahead. 

“You said you were eight when you were adopted, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you ever know your parents?” he ventured cautiously, remembering how she could retract into her shell faster than his X-ing could fly. 

“As in your biological parents,” he confirmed.

“I’m not sure. Don’t think so,” she said, slowly. “There used to be this old man who’d keep an eye out for all us street kids in that settlement on Nevarro. He’d give us food. That is, if he ever _had_ extra. He died when I was about six I think, but I remember him telling me my parents were probably bounty hunters. The place was full of them. He was the one who knew my last name after all, so it made sense.”

“Street kid, huh?”

He tried to picture it. His brain came up with Naura, but with dark skin and wild, curly hair, and instead of a bright smile there was a grumpy scowl instead. With a smear of dirt on her cheek. 

He grinned at the image.

“Trying to imagine what you looked like.”

Deccol’s helmet shifted and he guessed she was rolling her eyes.

When Poe looked ahead of them, still smiling, he saw Din and Paz looking over their shoulders and they walked, carefully watching him and Deccol.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations:  
> Su'cuy - Hi  
> Epar ca'nara - time to eat  
> ret' - bye  
> Mando'ad - Mandalorian  
> Shabuir - (An insukt, like 'jerk' but way stronger)  
> ke'gev - (gev means stop and the "ke'" part implies it as an order.)  
> Mand'alor - Sole Leader  
> Kaden'ika - (Kaden means angry, "'ika" is the diminutive)
> 
> **I'm thinking of doing a chapter from Deccol's perspective. It'll be little snapshots of parts in previous chapters, just from her perspective instead of Poe's. Good idea? Drop a quick "yes" or "no" in the comments**
> 
> If you haven't seen The Mandalorian and you're enjoying this fic, I suggest you watch it. There are/will be spoilers for the show here. Be warned. [Paz is a canon character]


	17. Wildfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 1 on Mandalore

***

Sundari’s dome had a small, concealed doorway from which they entered through. The covert was already inside, just beyond the doors.

Poe could see Riko, Juna and the young Corellian Armourer, who’s name he had learned was Inan, talking with Din and Paz. Rusan was standing there too, but he didn’t look like he was paying attention to the conversation.

There was a coloured blur of sunlight in the corner of his eye. 

Deccol must’ve seen it too because she turned, just before two Mandalorians slammed into her. 

Poe jumped back to avoid getting shoved to the floor as well, watching Deccol stagger and collapse backwards into a heap.

At first, he was alarmed. Having just been attacked himself, his worries were valid. 

But then loud, bellowing laughter rang through the small hall and he glanced over to see Paz watching, leaning back with a hand on his chest in his mirth. 

And Poe noticed how the two assailants were smaller and almost skinny. They were kids. One even seemed to be giggling through the attack.

Poe might have smiled too, but he was more concerned with the way Deccol had hit the ground. She was wounded after all. 

He was about to step forward and yell, telling them to stop, but the sound of Deccol’s maniacal cackle stopped him. 

His grounded partner expertly flipped one of the attackers off, over her head with a strong kick and she rolled the other over until she was on top, pinning them down and drawing her blaster at the flipped one, freezing them both.

They both groaned, annoyed she’d got them, and she laughed again as she slowly got up, pulling the pinned Mando up with her and holstering her blaster. 

The two attackers were the same height with identical armour, apart from the difference in colour. One was dark maroon and the other was a light green. They pulled their helmets off. 

Two boys, with tan skin and bleached, short blond hair. Both grinning at Deccol with deep identical dimples and green eyes. Twins.

She grabbed Maroon’s jaw after a second, turning his head to the side. There was a thin white scar under the boy’s ear. 

They both started yelling.

“You still can't tell us apart!”

“I can’t believe you! _I’m_ Elin!” the boy with the scar hollered. “ _He’s_ Leon.”

“Hey! _Hush_ ,” she replied, waving her hands to shut them up. “I know. _You’re_ Elin. _You’re_ Leon. I was just making sure.”

“‘ _Making sure_ ’,” mocked Elin, while his brother laughed.

Deccol cuffed Elin over the ear playfully as Din suddenly appeared at Poe’s side, making him twitch away, startled. 

Turns out, even the father moves like a kriffing ghost. What a surprise. 

“ _Adike_.”

The boys turned sharply, almost standing at attention.

“I think you have somewhere to be?”

Deccol crossed her arms and Poe heard a chuckle through her helmet as she looked from her father to the boys.

Leon looked guilty, eyes darting to Deccol for a second, but Elin scowled grumpily, holding Din’s gaze.

“We wanted to welcome Ava back,” he said sullenly.

“And quite a welcome I got,” cut in Deccol.

“Go on. _Beskar’ir_ will be missing you.”

The two identical helmets turned to watch the twins scurry off. 

And Poe stared at the silver. 

They were almost glowing, both of them, the edges of their armour alight with the pale yellow shine of the morning sun through the doorway. 

If it wasn’t for the drastic height difference, Poe might’ve struggled to tell them apart. 

The silver helmets turned to each other as the boys disappeared from eyesight. Din jerked his head in a way Poe could only interpret as humorous because Deccol’s shoulders were shaking with laughter again.

Then she turned, visor seeking Poe. With a tilt of her head, she beckoned him, and he sauntered over, nervously thrusting his hands into his pockets.

“I didn’t manage to properly introduce you two-,” she mumbled, breaking off momentarily to lift her helmet off before continuing, “-what with the whole Penn thing. Sorry about that, by the way,” she added to Poe who just smirked briefly.

As usual, the curls were flat on her forehead. A few were adorably sticking out from under the roll of bandage. 

Poe clenched his fists in his pockets, tearing his gaze away as she continued.

“Commander Poe Dameron, of the Resistance.” 

Poe nodded his head respectfully.

“Din Djarin, Mand’alor, Leader of the Mandalorians.”

Din echoed Poe’s gesture, also dipping his head before turning on his daughter with what sounded like a groan.

“What is this?” 

He touched the bandage around her head gingerly, shifting to examine it.

“What happened?”

He looked at Poe, visor almost accusing.

“ _What_ _happened_?” he asked, sharper than before, as if the injury had been Poe’s fault.

“Whoa!” Deccol interrupted her father quickly, easily sensing Poe’s apprehension at the implied accusation. “ _Hukaat’iisa_.”

“Hey!”

A call from the far end of the room made the three of them turn. 

A woman was striding towards them. Her hair was black with a few silver streaks, indicating a senior age, but as she got closer, the only wrinkles Poe could see were in the corners of her eyes. She was a soldier. That much was obvious to Poe in the way she walked. It was the same way his father would hold himself. There was no sign of any Mandalorian armour on her though.

Deccol smiled widely at the sight of the newcomer.

“Cara!”

“What,” said the woman as she pulled Deccol into a hug, “back so soon?” Her face dropped as she took in Deccol’s wrapped head.

“What happened there?”

“That’s what _I_ was asking,” Din cut in, almost sullenly.

Poe saw amusement spark in Deccol’s eyes as she rolled them at him, before answering.

“Long story short, I happened to be standing next to an explosion.” She turned to her father, face going serious. “I’ll explain the long story later,” she said softer, just to him. 

He gave a small nod.

“Next to an explosion, huh? Hitting your head?” Cara looked at Din pointedly, with a smirk. “Reminds me of someone.”

Din huffed.

“Don’t start.”

“Also, you should’ve seen the tantrum this one threw when he realised you’d taken his rifle,” Cara said offhandedly, still smirking.

Din silently turned his head to Cara in a glare as Avara leaned back to laugh, tugging her father's cape teasingly.

“I just _had_ to take it! It’s not like you need it here in your council meetings, is it? _Old_ man.”

Cara laughed this time, as it was now Avara's turn to get glared at.

Poe watched her, stunned. He had never seen her like this. She was… what was the word? 

_Sunny_.

When they had first met, she was quiet, and Poe had to admit, intimidating. 

Then, she was civil. Still with her personality hidden. 

But slowly, it had begun to shine through her walls. 

The teasing, the startling. Her competitiveness, unwilling to go easy on him during their bout of sparring. Even how she was protective, Poe realised suddenly. Fiercely protective. Stepping in between him and that drunk man on Naboo, and even patching up his scrapes later that night. And with Penn.

But here, with the people who were obviously her family? This was a whole other side of her. 

He’d been watching the shadowed side of her planet for so long, and only now he’d stumbled onto the illuminated, sunlit side.

“We should be settling your Corellians in, not listening to old, exaggerated stories,” Din grumbled, tugging her away towards where Riko and Paz were standing. 

Deccol shot an apologetic look at Poe over her shoulder, who was left standing with the woman called Cara. He looked after his partner, almost desperately, silently begging for her to come back. But she turned away with an amused smile.

“So.”

Poe turned to Cara. 

Her eyes were glinting with curiosity and he readied himself for inevitable questions.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Deccol’s mission partner. Poe Dameron.” 

He stuck out an arm which she took, and the movement drew his attention to her upper right arm. 

Tattoos. He’d seen those before… 

“You’re a Rebellion Shock Trooper.” 

He blurted it out before he could stop to consider.

But her smile just grew slightly wider.

“Not many kids your age would recognise that. Let me guess, you had parents in the Rebellion?” 

She eyed the shoulder of his jacket appreciatively, where the Alliance symbol was boldly pictured.

“Yeah. My mother was an A-Wing pilot and my father was a Pathfinder.”

“I never knew any starfighter pilots,” she mused thoughtfully, “but the Pathfinders were a lot like us Droppers, just more sneaky.”

Poe grinned at that, already warming to her.

“And you, what are you?”

“I’m a Resistance pilot. X-Wing.”

Cara nodded and raised her eyebrows approvingly, glancing over to where Deccol was.

“So Ava is with the Resistance then. We weren’t sure where she’d end up when she struck out from here. Good choice.”

Poe nodded. 

“They even made her a Commander for this particular mission. Not surprisingly," he added. "She’s good at what she does.”

Cara laughed. 

“I’m guessing that means she outranks you?”

“No,” he said, frowning slightly. “I’m a Commander too.”

“You?” She had an eyebrow raised. “You’re pretty young for a _Commander_.”

“I’m a good pilot,” he shot back.

She grinned, and Poe suddenly realised she’d just been teasing. 

“I don’t doubt that.”

And he realised that maybe Cara was how Deccol ended up with her mischievous nature.

***

By the next few hours, all the new arrivals had been allocated living quarters and they were now walking through the city.

Sundari was large, way more than enough to accommodate the meagre current population of two-hundred.

A sector in the middle of the city had been picked years ago, and Mandos had slowly begun to settle it, spreading outwards as they returned to their planet. 

It was like the covert on Corellia but on a much larger scale. There were plenty of people without armour, like Poe, but besides Cara, he was the only non-Mandalorian. 

People somehow seemed to notice this, and helmets and heads alike, turned in his direction as they walked through the streets.

They walked past a group of children in a park. A class, learning to fight from the looks of it.

Deccol had completely disappeared.

He assumed she must’ve flown off with her father and Riko and the rest of them. He couldn’t blame her really. But he couldn't help the slight disappointment that pricked him.

So he comfortably settled for Cara’s company which was quite entertaining when he realised she knew Deccol as a child.

“So wait, you’re telling me you met her first? You introduced her to Din?”

Cara snorted. “Met her? You make it sound like we saw each other at a cantina and became friends. No.”

“Then what?” Poe was intrigued. 

“May as well tell you the whole story. I was on Nevarro. Din had sent a message saying he was on-planet for a while. So we met at the local cantina. And the first thing he noticed when I walked in, was that my holster was empty. And I would never go without my blaster. So we backtracked my route. Down an alley, we see a group of street urchins scuffling. I would’ve ignored them but Din has a soft spot for kids.”

Poe grins and nods. 

He’s already fully invested in the story. 

“So he strides over. Just the sight of him was enough to make them scatter. He must’ve seen something then, cause he yelled back at me before taking off after one of them.”

“Her? Did _she_ pickpocket your blaster? _You_?” 

Poe laughed then, and Cara grinned.

“Right? She had guts, even as a scrawny seven-year-old. She gave us quite the run. Ducking under things, weaving through crowds of people, trying to lose us. We would’ve been quite a sight,” she said as Poe threw his head back to laugh again. 

His brain conjured up a wild image of a tiny 'street-kid Deccol' holding a stolen blaster and bolting through crowded streets with a large armoured Mandalorian racing after, followed by a furious Cara.

“We split up then and managed to corner her. She dropped my blaster and tried to get past but Din scooped her up. And I think he fell in love with the little runt right there.”

Cara was smiling widely as she recalled the story.

“She was wriggling and screaming, trying to get away. It sounded like she knew more obscenities than the two of us combined.”

He guffawed, delight sparking through him. 

Oh, this was more than he could have asked for.

“She eventually realised there was nothing she could do to get out of his grasp and fell silent. I think that’s when we both saw how scared she was. Poor thing was terrified. Shaking. Probably expected us to turn her into some abusive juvenile center or something.”

Poe nodded, softening, briefly feeling sorry for little Deccol.

“Then Din bought some food at some market stall. She was still curled up in his arms. Resigned to whatever fate she was gonna get I guess. Then Din set her down and held the food out. You should’ve seen her face. She snatched the food and disappeared. I was pissed.”

He frowned. “Oh? Then what?”

“Cut to almost a year later. Din is back on Nevarro. We’re strolling around, y’know as friends do. And out of nowhere, we’re surrounded. They wanted Din. As to why he was the target is another story. Anyway, we’ve taken cover behind a wall, but we’re pretty much pinned. No way out. And suddenly one of the mercenaries goes down. Then another.”

Poe’s smile slowly started to grow again, as he pieced the picture together.

“They’re all being stunned. One-by-one, just dropping into the mud. There are now only three left and they know they need to run. So they do, leaving us with our mysterious saviour. And we find that same little street rat standing there with a blaster. We were shocked. I think Din actually froze. She just glared at us for a second, before turning to walk off as if nothing happened.”

He scoffed. “She _would_.”

“Then,” Cara continued, eyes beginning to gleam, “Din yells and asks where she got the blaster.” 

She gave Poe a pointed look. 

And he burst into more peals of laughter.

“She stole it!”

“She just gave us this stupid grin over her shoulder. I’m pretty sure that’s when _I_ fell in love.”

“I can imagine. Wow. I mean, I knew she was a wildfire, but I didn’t realise how wild.”

Cara just smiled at him, something curious flickering in her eyes. He wondered what he’d said.

But whatever she was thinking, she didn’t ask.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations:  
> Adike - (Children, young ones)  
> Hukaat'iisa - Watch your fuse [I made this little phrase with already existing words as a way of saying 'calm down' or 'slow down']
> 
> So I've figured that Chapter 20 will be the chapter in Deccol's POV. Again, it'll consist of short snapshots of the story, just from her POV instead of Poe's. It's already been written. **Just let me know if there's a particular part of the story you want from her perspective!!**
> 
>   
> Hope everyone is doing alright. Things in the world are pretty shit at the moment. Just stay safe ❤︎  
> \- Iye


	18. Alight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of Day 1 on Mandalore.

***

Poe’s eyes became droopy the second he walked into his quarters. And saw his bed. 

The apartment he was given was small. The main room was just double the size of his cabin on the Ember, with an attached ‘fresher. Apparently most meals were eaten together in a hall as the Corellian covert had done, so he had no need for a kitchen.

He’d been offered a bigger place, but it was further away from where Cara said Deccol was, so he opted to be closer.

He kicked off his boots and tugged his shirt off over his head, and was just about to curl up on the large mattress for a nap when a knock sounded at the door. 

Poe frowned. 

It had been barely five minutes since he got here and he already had a visitor?

He pressed the button, the door sliding open.

“Oh, hey.”

It was Deccol. 

“Just coming to see you’re ok.”

BB-8 beeped from next to him and she shot the little droid a small wink in greeting before looking back up expectantly.

Besides BB-8, she was refusing to look anywhere below his face. 

It took him a second to realise why. He was shirtless. Again.

Amusement warmed him as he took in her slightly pink cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Cara saw me here. You’re welcome to come in. _If_ you have food. I was going to take a nap, but if you’ve got food, sleep can wait.”

She grinned sheepishly and nodded. “Yeah, thought you might be hungry. I got us a snack.”

Was he that predictable?

He stepped to the side, allowing her space to slip into his room.

“Darro’s funeral has been set for tonight.”

It came out of nowhere.

He just nodded slowly, uncertain of how to respond for a second.

“Is it only to be attended by Mandalorians or…”

She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

“No, you can come.”

They were silent after that, both of them unsure of what to say. 

Then suddenly remembering she had food, she pulled a small cloth bag off her shoulder and placed it on the small desk his room had. He came closer, curious to see what she’d brought.

“It’s this type of cake we make here. _Uj’alayi_. It’s really sweet. The kitchens are normally locked to stop people grabbing snacks like this, but I have a way of getting in,” she explained as she pulled a covered pan out.

“Yes, Cara was telling me about your criminal past.”

She looked up sharply, staring for a second.

“Oh, _haar'chak_! I should’ve known not to let you talk with her,” she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and sitting down in the nearby chair.

“What did she tell you?”

“Just how you guys met.”

She sighed heavily and Poe could see a mix of exasperation and fondness in the grudging smile on her face.

“She loves that story.”

“I could tell,” he said, grinning as he settled into the chair opposite her and uncovered the pan. 

It was a flat, dark brown cake littered with nuts and fruit, none of which Poe recognised. He broke off a lump and tossed it into his mouth. And he brightened.

“Maker, it’s been a while since I had anything _this_ sweet,” he moaned, grabbing a larger piece of the pastry as she smirked at his reaction, grabbing her own chunk.

They sat there, comfortable in silence as they munched. 

She ended up lost in some thought, staring out the large window as she chewed slowly. It was a pretty view, he’d admit. But he was more content watching her.

The sun was streaming through, creating visible beams through the dusty air. Her hair looked light brown in it and was more fluffed up than usual. She had removed most of her armour as well, just wearing the pauldron with her mudhorn and her vambraces. That thin grey scarf she’d worn on Naboo was back on as well. He saw her eyebrows twitch and her eyes seemed to be focusing on something he couldn’t see. 

He watched as the tip of her tongue unconsciously slipped over her bottom lip, wetting it slightly. As she clenched her jaw and rubbed the pad of her thumb into her palm, still gazing out the window.

And he guessed this was as good a time as any.

“Thank you.”

The words were quiet but loud enough to drag her attention back to him.

She blinked, face blank. 

“What?”

"Thank you," he repeated, slightly louder.

"For what?"

“A lot, apparently,” murmured, looking at the table to avoid her eyes. “I mean you saved my life twice, like in the last day alone.”

And she helped him breathe his way through a panic attack. And stroked his hair when he cried after.

Deccol’s lips parted as she searched for a reply. 

“I- You don’t need to. You weren’t gonna die. In the shipyard, _you_ saved my life, technically. I was expecting a Mandalorian to come, but you showed up. Stupidly, if I might add.”

“You may,” he replied, lips curling in a small smile.

“And then with Penn, even if I hadn’t caught him, Papa would have.”

He flicked an eyebrow up in an ‘I guess’ sort of way and she rolled her eyes at him.

“But still,” he mumbled, glancing at her.

She met his gaze, something so utterly gentle in her eyes, he had to drop his gaze again. He knew she understood what he hadn’t said aloud.

“Ok.”

He looked up for the briefest of moments, offering a tiny smile.

“I should be going. You need your beauty sleep.”

He laughed mockingly at her dumb joke to which she grinned as she stood up.

Her hand flicked out quickly as she walked past him, unexpectedly and affectionately brushing through his hair.

The movement was so smooth and natural it could only be some habit of hers. 

But it was obviously unexpected even for her it seemed, as she swiftly turned her face away and slipped out his door.

He stared at it, almost willing her to come back, the path her fingers had taken through his hair alight.

Come back and do what?

Warmth throbbed in his stomach, _no_ , _lower than his stomach_ as his thoughts turned heated at the question he'd asked himself.

But he shook his head to himself and heaved a heavy sigh, before looking at his droid who was watching him.

“I’m just gonna sleep, buddy. Conserve your energy and wake me up in a couple of hours, huh?”

BB-8 whistled faithfully and he smiled.

He lay in bed, wide awake for a few minutes. Then he lifted his hand and drew it through his curls, trying to replicate the way she’d done it. 

But it didn’t work, so he mentally pinned his wrist to the mattress and angrily tried to force himself to sleep.

***

It wasn’t long after he’d woken up that Deccol was back at his door to take him to the hall for lunch. She seemed a bit stiff. 

It wasn’t hard to guess she regretted stroking his hair earlier. So for her benefit, he pretended it didn’t happen like after their spar. As if everything was normal. 

But he’d never forget it.

  
  


It was massive. Deccol told him that these buildings were part of the Palace Sector, and he supposed that that explained the enormity of the room.

Large yellow lanterns hung from the high ceiling, their glow accompanying the pale light streaming in from the tall windows. Eight long wooden tables stretched the length of the room. The place was bustling with armoured and unarmoured people, and children ran around causing chaos and adding to the noise. There were more than a hundred and fifty people there. Easily. 

Poe noticed people nodding to Deccol as she stepped through the tables with him on her heels. Then they’d stare at him curiously. 

His skin prickled under the attention and he instinctively shifted closer to her. But he foolishly misjudged. 

_Foolishly_.

Their hands brushed and they both twitched, sharply pulling away. 

And for a second they watched each other blush, before finding something else to suddenly look at.

Poe glared at the minimalist chandeliers above, furious at himself.

Deccol kept having to stop to greet people. Occasionally she’d introduce him but he mostly just stood at her shoulder awkwardly shuffling his feet, waiting for her conversation to end.

After the fifth stop, Poe leaned down to murmur in her ear.

“Being a princess sure looks like hard work.”

“Oh shut up,” she grumbled to him before her face lifted itself into a smile as she caught sight of another person heading her way.

Poe hid his peals of laughter in a few coughs as he watched the forced smile on her face.

After the person bid goodbye, Deccol shot him a mixed look of irritation and desperation.

“You call me a princess again, I’ll punch you,” she growled.

“Here, let me,” he whispered quickly, grinning as he ignored her threat.

He threw his right arm over her shoulders and pulled her against him, looking down at her slightly startled face.

“If they see you’re already deep in conversation, they probably won’t bother you. So focus on me.”

He felt her hand hesitatingly settle on his left hip as he continued their path through the tables. And again her touch seemed to burn through his clothing.

“Do you know what your father looks like?”

He’d been curious about this since Corellia, since she’d explained the rule that some of the Mandalorians followed. The one about how some of them didn't take their helmets off.

She frowned. 

“That really is a bit of a personal question. But I know you don’t mean any harm,” she added, deftly escaping his apology. “Yes, I do. We’re family. A clan. When it’s just the three of us, he takes his helmet off.”

It was Poe’s turn to frown down at her. 

They’d managed to walk half the length of the hall uninterrupted and he’d caught a glance of Cara sitting at a far end of a table.

“ _Three_ of you?”

She smiled. It was an unusual twist of her lips. Half apologetic.

“My younger brother. Though you could also call him my older brother.”

“You have a brother? You never mentioned.”

She must’ve seen the hurt he couldn’t hold off of his face.

“We never talk about him openly with…” she trailed off, biting her lip, searching for the right word.

“People you don’t know?” he suggested, still struggling to keep his bitterness away. “People you don’t trust?”

“Hey, come on,” she appealed gently. “Don’t be like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a brother?”

She sighed. 

“Well, he’s… special. Different. Attracted a lot of attention from people who wanted to do him harm. My father had a hard time protecting him in his younger years.” 

She glanced ahead, to where Cara was. “I don’t think he’ll be here for this meal. You’ll meet him later maybe.”

He was relatively silent during lunch. He knew he was being stupid, but he couldn’t stop the dejection lingering from their earlier conversation. He could see her shooting him anxious looks throughout the meal and he was sorry he was ruining the mood for Cara.

Did his partner really not trust him? No. That couldn’t be right. Of _course_ Deccol trusted him.

But the doubt remained, hovering over him.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations:  
> Uj’alayi - (its an actual Mandalorian cake, also called Uj Cake)  
> haar'chak - damn it!
> 
> I've written ahead pretty far and this is a short chapter, so I'll put the next chapter up now itself!


	19. Kindling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4 of Day 1 on Mandalore

***

Someone tapped Deccol’s shoulder halfway through the meal and she slipped away to continue whatever ‘princessly duties’ she had.

So, Cara took the opportunity to speak, jarring him from his despondent thoughts.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asked wryly, pinning him with a sharp gaze.

He shook his head, avoiding it to continue eating. 

“Oh just tell me. Why are the both of you looking so miserable?”

“She never mentioned she had a brother,” he sighed finally, meeting the woman’s eyes.

“And you’re upset because you think she doubts you? That she doesn’t trust you?”

Poe scowled at his plate in answer, pushing his food around nervously with his spoon.

“You can’t blame her. That kid, he’s… he’s rare. And danger follows him because of it. I met Din because he was looking for someplace to keep the child safe, and he ended up on the planet I was hiding on,” she said, an almost wistful expression on her face. “I’ve seen firsthand what some were willing to do, to take that baby. You can hardly blame her for not being in the habit of talking about her little brother.”

Poe’s discontent dimmed at her words and he gave her a small nod.

“And I know she trusts you. It’s obvious,” she mumbled with a noncommittal shrug.

“It doesn’t seem that obvious to me,” he muttered under his breath. 

Cara heard it and grinned. 

“That’s because you’re one of the oblivious types.”

He sighed, raising an eyebrow as he felt his mood lightening. 

“So I’ve been told.”

“You consider her a friend, don’t you?”

He nodded.

“So why do you call her Deccol? Why not her first name?”

Poe squirmed. 

“I- I never started using her first name. And now it feels too late to just switch to Avara.”

And he wonders if that's really the first time he’s ever said her first name out loud. It sits there, almost unfamiliar on his tongue. But it’s natural at the same time.

And he looks up to see Cara with a highly entertained expression on her face.

He blinked. 

“What?” he asked, suddenly defensive.

She just smirked. 

“Nothing.”

And Poe was left feeling like he’d just been dissected and studied like some small organism.

***

He was struggling. There was weirdly no mirror in the ‘fresher of his quarters and he had the desperate urge to shave. He hadn’t let his stubble grow out this much in a long time and he felt as scruffy as a Wookie every time he brushed his hand over it.

His stint in the New Republic Navy had left him with the routine of staying clean-shaven, but he’d allowed himself to get lazy over the past few days.

But now he was itching to shave it off. And he couldn’t find a single kriffing mirror as he paced his quarters restlessly. He knew he could try without a mirror… but he’d embarrassingly end up with a patch he couldn’t see and there was no way he’d risk that.

So after BB-8 had chirped at him with a deceptively simple solution, he found himself walking to Deccol’s place.

It wasn’t far, barely a five-minute walk from the block he was in. 

The building was short compared to the ones surrounding it, only about four levels tall. He’d expected it to be a bit grander or more decorated. It was the ruler’s home after all. But apart from a small fluttering golden banner of the mudhorn outside (along with two others with symbols he didn’t recognise), there was nothing else hinting that the Leader of the Mandalore lived here.

He walked into the open doorway and entered a courtyard. There were two doors on either side of him and he hesitated, suddenly confused. 

But wait, the one on his right had a gold stripe painted down the side. The same gold as the flag he’d walked past.

So he walked over and knocked. 

There was a muffled shout in reply, that Poe assumed meant someone was coming to the door. He steeled himself, just in case it was Din.

It wasn’t. But it wasn’t Deccol either.

The man who’d opened it was, in Poe’s first thoughts, handsome. _Really_ handsome. 

Tan skin, but pale, as if it didn’t see much sun. Light brown hair cut short at the sides with short waves atop his head. There was an elegant black tattoo leading from the corner of one eyebrow and curling down the side of the cheekbone under one of the beautiful grey eyes.

But the beautiful eyes were flashing with anger.

Poe had been about to ask if Deccol was there, but the words died in his mouth.

The man who’d opened it was wearing familiar blue armour. With a familiar blue vambrace.

Penn.

Just seeing him was enough to put Poe on edge, adrenaline tensing his muscles. 

They just stared at each other for a long, strained second. 

“Penn?” The call came from deeper in the house. “Who is it?”

Penn scowled, still glaring at Poe, who lifted his chin challengingly at the question, not breaking eye contact. And finally, Penn silently turned sideways after a slow moment.

Poe shouldered past, stalking in, secretly wondering if this _was_ Deccol’s place. But he continued in without showing any hesitation and entered a brightly lit room. 

It was large, but the table in the center was small. There wasn’t much in terms of adornments, but he could see a few toys scattered around the room and Poe guessed they belonged to Deccol’s little brother. There was a large metal chest against the far wall, the lock on it suggesting that it’s contents were valuable.

There was a big group of people, including Cara, Din and Paz, sitting around the small table, which was crowded with mugs and glasses. Din stood up as Poe walked in, Cara nodded, and Paz, who remained comfortably sprawled in an armchair, greeted him teasingly.

“ _Su’cuy_ , Poe. Or should I call you _Jaro’ika_?”

Cara chuckled from over a glass and Poe blushed, wondering what it meant. He remembered how Deccol had told him that Paz would have a nickname for him before long.

“What’s the point in asking if you’re going to call him that anyway?” Din asked wryly as Paz sniggered.

“I suppose you’re looking for Ava? She’s out at the moment,” he continued, turning back to Poe.

“Actually, uh,” he fumbled, pulling out his foldable shaving knife, “there’s no mirror in my quarters and I wanted to shave…” 

He trailed off, hoping he didn’t look as awkward as he felt, especially as Penn moved past him.

Din looked visibly surprised, helmet tilting slightly.

“I’m not sure why there’s no mirror, but you’re welcome to use the refresher upstairs.”

He was about to move when another voice spoke. 

“The remnant Imperials left Mandalore with many valuables when they left. No one has used the quarters young Dameron is in for many years, so it is only likely.”

The speaker was another Mando sitting in the armchair to Poe’s left, her helmet golden with four small horns on the crown.

Din inclined his head at the statement before leading Poe further into the house to a door, that when was slid open, revealed a ‘fresher. 

He sighed, almost grinning at the sight of the mirror hanging over the sink.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely as he stepped in.

The older man just nodded slightly and disappeared back in the direction they’d come from.

Poe would normally use a depil cream as it was quicker than shaving, but when travelling it was just easier to carry his knife. 

He took his time, producing a thick lather with the available soap and then carefully grazing the blade over his skin with deft strokes. He ended up daydreaming as he worked, thinking about his X-wing and the small upgrades he could make to it when he got back. 

He could replace the turbo impellers, the current ones were old. That would no doubt increase the acceleration rates. Or he could-

Poe flinched sharply, jerking further away from the door where he’d seen movement in his peripheral vision.

And then he gasped. The motion had been a twisted piece of metal. It was hovering in the air at eye-level. It didn’t take him long to realise that it was shaped into the highly recognisable shape of an X-wing. 

It was a model of an X-wing. And it was floating.

And then there was a noise. A childish giggle. It sounded from the bottom of the doorframe and when Poe looked down there was a small infant. His large green ears were raised along with a hand.

Oh. _Oh_. It made more sense now.

“So _you’re_ the special one, huh?”

Poe stared at the kid for a second longer. 

“Y’know I have a friend like you,” he said gently. 

His alarm was fading and he stepped forward, holding his hand out. The X-wing lowered and landed perfectly into it, making him grin.

“How’d you know I fly one of these?” he asked teasingly as if he didn’t already know. He was familiar enough with the Force to know some of it’s uses.

The child cooed and waved his hand slightly.

Poe chuckled.

“Gimme a second, let me finish this up,” he said, gesturing to his lathered face before setting the X-wing down and turning back to the mirror. 

Luckily he’d been in the middle of rinsing his knife when he’d jerked, or right now he would’ve had blood running down his chin. 

He quickly finished the last few strokes before splashing water on his face and drying it on one of the cloths hanging to the side. 

“So,” he called to the kid as he checked he hadn’t missed a spot, “you must be the little brother.”

The baby had waddled closer with another unintelligible babble, the X-wing once again suspended in front of the mirror.

“My name is Poe. I’m Deccol’s friend, we work together.”

The little green head tilted at that, large eyes focused on Poe. He got the impression the kid knew exactly what he was saying despite being so young. He plucked the X-wing out of the air and kneeled down, watching Deccol’s brother curiously. He shuffled forward, closer to Poe and raised both hands over his head, making grabby motions. It was obvious what he wanted.

“Oh buddy, you want me to pick you up?”

He received another gurgle and Poe smiled, delighted. He gently scooped the kid up, settling him against his chest with one arm. A little green hand reached for his chin and Poe leaned his head back with a light laugh.

“Aren’t you a cute lil thing?” he chuckled, offering the kid a finger instead, which was eagerly grabbed with a tight little grip.

“Were you sleeping? Did I wake you up?” he asked, rhetorically of course, while gently bouncing the little child up and down in his arms.

There was more babbling and Poe grinned again, unaware of a silver set of armour standing stiffly outside the open door.

“What are you doing?”

Poe turned at the accusing question, jumping slightly at Din’s sudden appearance. 

The child giggled then, obviously amused at Poe’s fright.

“Oh, this little guy just found me in here. He brought me this,” Poe explained, picking up the X-wing. For some reason, Poe was nervous even though he’d done nothing wrong. 

“He never plays with that toy,” came the sharp reply.

“I suppose he heard me thinking about it.”

The Mandalorian stayed silent so Poe explained further.

“I usually fly an X-wing for the Resistance. I was thinking about upgrades I could make when I got back to the base while I was shaving.”

“And he brought you that,” Din said slowly, pointing to the model, “because he heard your thoughts?”

Poe nodded. 

“He is a Force user, isn’t he? That’s a power some have, or can develop. I’ve never heard of it being so strong in someone so young though, it usually takes years to hone the skills.”

Din nodded slowly after a second, before stepping forward and reaching for the child. Poe handed him over as the kid gabbled something. 

He picked up his knife and tucked it back into his belt, following Din back to the people.

“You know a lot about... the Force?”

The question came over the Mandalorian’s shoulder.

“Not as much as some, but more than most I guess.”

Poe just saw the back of Din’s helmet nod again.

“Do you know where Deccol is?”

“She's probably outside. She likes to watch the sun go down.”

Poe blinked at the man’s back. 

Of _course_ she does.

“Um, alone? Or does she not mind company?”

Din turned his head as he walked. 

“Why?” 

The tone was accusing again and Poe could feel his face flushing.

“Uh, I just need to talk to her about our mission,” he replied, trying to sound offhanded.

And he needed to apologise to her. 

The kid was watching him closely over his father’s shoulder.

He was hoping his answer was satisfactory enough, when the impassive reply finally came.

“She’ll be outside the west city limits.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“Ah, found the mirror then?”

He grinned shyly at Paz’s call, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yep.”

Penn was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out as he leaned back against the chair his father was in. He was on a datapad.

“Penn?”

He hadn’t bothered to look up as Poe and Din had walked in, but he did now when the latter called his name.

“You’ll take Poe to the west entrance of the city, to where Ava normally is at this time of the day.”

Cara and another helmetless Mando snorted at Penn’s disbelieving look.

“Wait, I can find my own way,” Poe tried to insist, but Din had made up his mind.

“No. Penn will take you.”

Poe must have had some sort of nauseated expression on his face because there was a small bark of laughter from Paz’s helmet as he exchanged amused looks with Cara and a few of the other Mandalorians. 

So they’d all heard the story then.

“It’ll do you good to remember what _Kaden'ika_ said the last time you two spoke,” Paz almost crowed at his son. 

Penn shot a furious look at his father as he reluctantly stood up.

And Poe looked at Din pleadingly, silently asking the man to reconsider. 

But all Din did was casually lean his shoulder against the wall next to him. He wasn’t going to change his mind.

He got the feeling Din was smirking under his helmet. 

Poe had to admit, it was smart. Spearing two fleek-eels with one trident. Penn was getting a punishment, and he was getting taken to Deccol.

The only downside was that there was a decent chance Poe’s dead body will be found sometime tomorrow, after people realise he’s missing.

He watched Penn snatch up his helmet from a shelf and storm out, heading for the front door.

“Go on.”

Poe looked at Din’s helmet sullenly before following Penn.

The second he stepped out of the room, there was a rather brutal burst of laughter from behind him.

***

They were both furiously silent for the first minute, walking stiffly next to each other. 

Poe hated it. So he tried to weasel his way out.

“I’m just going to go back to my quarters. You can go back.”

“My leader told me to take you to Ava. I’ll drag you there if I have to.”

Poe clenched his fists.

“Why do you hate me? What did I do?”

Penn was silent for a second. 

“Outsiders have no place here.”

“I don't see Cara wearing armour.”

“Cara proved herself.”

Poe snorted.

“And you want me to prove myself? Is that it? I'm Deccol's partner. She doesn't seem to have a problem with me.”

“Let me guess,” Penn began mockingly, “she didn’t like you at first did she?”

He turned to see Poe who was struggling not to look disturbed.

“I feel bad for her. She has to force herself to put up with you. I’ll let you in on a secret,” he continued, a slight sneer underlining his words. “She’s a good actor.”

Poe felt like he’d been lashed across the face.

***

It was an excruciating twenty minutes.

They finally reached a doorway, similar to the one Poe had first come through when he entered the dome. There were two guards who stood up as Penn and Poe approached.

“Is Djarin outside?”

“ _Elek_. She went right, along the edge of the dome,” said one guard while the other walked to the door panel. The door opened with a hiss and Poe had to squint suddenly as the harsh brilliance of the low sun beamed in.

He strode out the doorway, ignoring Penn but giving the guards a nod, turning right to find his partner, with something upset kindling in his stomach.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'spearing two fleek-eels with one trident' is actually the Star Wars version of saying 'killing two birds with one stone' :)  
> Reminder: Next chapter is Deccol's.
> 
>   
> I really hope everyone is doing alright out there, not only with the COVID situation but also the BLM protests. Stay safe.  
> Also, Happy Pride Month!!  
> \- Iye


	20. From Deccol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deccol's POV throughout chapters 1-19

**✦✦✦**

**✦ Introductions ✦**

Avara had arrived on D’Qar in the morning, on a small transport shuttle from Takodana. Maz Katana had sent her, believing this is where she would be of good use for a good cause. And if there was anything Avara had learned after a week on Takodana, it was to listen to Maz, no matter how frustratingly cryptic the woman could be. So she came to D’Qar. 

They showed her to a block of barracks with a meal, where she’d stripped most of her armour and weapons, and rested from the journey, waiting to be summoned.

It was a Lieutenant Connix, a young woman with buns of braids on her head, who collected her a few hours later, leading Avara into what appeared to be underground communication or administration center. She was taken into an office and announced. 

This is where she met the famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked,) Leia Organa.

She was different from what Avara had imagined. 

Of course, she’d heard the stories. The woman was a war hero, a leading figure in the Rebellion against the Empire of old. 

However not all the rumours were flattering. She was also the daughter of a Sith Lord. The right hand of the Emperor.

But that didn’t matter to Avara. Parents don’t define who you are.

But, Organa was unexpected. Avara had imagined someone more stern and sharp, not this gentle, almost motherly woman. 

However, by just a few minutes later, it was clear she had all the wit in the galaxy. She was like a more diplomatic Cara.

Organa called out to Connix, who entered swiftly, and told her to find someone called ‘Poe’ as he’d obviously forgotten this meeting.

It must’ve taken Connix quite a while to track this guy down because he only made himself known more than twenty minutes later.

During that time, Avara chatted with the General. She was calming, and Avara felt her tension just melting away as she relaxed in Organa’s company.

But then he’d burst into the room, sweaty, dirty and panting, childishly making excuses for his tardiness. 

So this was Poe.

A small curl of amusement twisted in Avara’s stomach at the man’s appearance, but she kept her face straight. 

She liked him instantly. 

How could she not? He seemed to have the same chaotic, wild nature as some friends back on Mandalore.

He was wearing a dark orange jumpsuit that was stained with grease, and his dark curly hair stuck up wildly. He didn’t seem to notice her at first, attention focused purely on his general. 

After General Organa deftly berated him, they were introduced, and she got to observe him more closely. Just as he was watching her.

He was taller, but then for Avara, almost everyone was. His brows were furrowed grumpily as he stared back at her. Tan skin, dark eyes, sharp cheekbones and a defined jawline. He definitely isn’t bad looking. He didn’t seem too much older than her. He was restless, maybe nervous. He was fiddling with a thread from the seam of his jumpsuit, rolling it between his fingers mindlessly. 

Then he shifted his stance and stuck his hands into his pockets, continuing to meet her gaze with something akin to resentment sparking in his eyes.

Oh. Ok. So _that’s_ how it is. Well, two could play that game, _burc’ya_.

Organa spoke again. She was looking entertained because it was obvious she’d also caught the annoyance in Poe. 

She then introduced him as her best pilot. 

It was hard to miss the flash of pride in Poe’s eyes at this. 

Then she mentioned a mission, one which Avara, and apparently Poe, would be completing. Together.

Avara was then swiftly complimented as a good shot and Poe was slowly looking more and more mutinous by the second. Much to Avara’s and (by the looks of it,) the General’s amusement.

But then Organa mentioned a ‘BB-8’ and he brightened, going from moon to sun within a second. Wrinkles in the corners of his eyes crinkled deeply with his delight. 

Wow. Organa knew _exactly_ how to manage him.

Avara almost found herself smiling at the sight.

  
  
  


**✦ A bet ✦**

Avara was strolling along with some of Poe’s pilot friends. He was there too but he’d fallen back. She glanced over her shoulder but he was staring at the ground as he walked, frowning slightly. 

Good, she had thought, almost savagely. He’d been nasty during dinner and anger had been burning in her chest since then.

One of the friends walking next to Avara, Karé, saw her glance and dropped back to walk beside her friend. It was clear that this group of pilots adored him.

Minutes later Avara heard some strangled sounding cry from Karé and Poe. She, Snap, Iolo and Jess turned as Poe screamed at Snap, and the rest of the pilots just about lost their minds.

Turns out, two of them had been dating for a week and had been betting on when Poe would notice. It was helpless. She couldn’t stop herself from chuckling.

He was comical in his mock fury, and she could feel her anger at him slowly drifting away.

  
  
  


**✦ Packing ✦**

She dithered outside his door for a second. 

Having arrived only the day before, she was obviously packed and ready to go within minutes. After ‘packing’, she’d taken a light, restless nap for a few hours and was now standing outside Poe’s room. She set her bag, rifle and helmet down by his door, steeled herself and knocked sharply.

There was an audible cry from within and the door whizzed open. She had opened her mouth to speak but had ended up trailing off.

The small white and orange droid she met at breakfast stood at her feet. It had obviously opened the door, as Poe was struggling to maintain his balance with both his feet tangled in a shirt.

The shirt that should’ve been _on_ him.

She jerked her gaze away, staring at the edge of the door frame as the image of an embarrassed, shirtless Poe burned into her memory unforgivingly. 

And she hoped her cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt. 

When he’d apologised and stammered out his excuses, which actually were valid this time, she ended up making his tanned cheekbones blush even more. 

She wasn’t one to deny anything. She could ignore, but she’d never deny it. 

He was cute.

_Especially_ when he dragged his fingers through his hair like that.

She listened to him whine about hating packing, to which she offered her help. It was obvious that irritation flickered in his eyes at the suggestion, but his little BB unit quickly beat him to a reply. 

Avara instantly made a mental note to become good friends with this droid, as she watched the little thing haul a dark leather jacket to her. She scooped it up and handed it to Poe, who was going redder by the second. 

She enjoyed the startled look of realisation on his face when she pointed out he hadn’t yet packed weapons. 

He went to retrieve them and Avara curiously studied little Bee bumbling around the room, trying to sort through the mess Poe had left in his wake.

  
  
  


**✦ Startling ✦**

She strolled up the cockpit ramp a few minutes after him, stopping at the entry when she realised that (for the second time that day,) he was completely unaware she was behind him. 

They had just exited hyperspace, heading into Naboo’s atmosphere.

It was rare for her.

She could never sneak up on her father. He always knew when she tried. 

Cara was the same. She was constantly aware of her surroundings.

All Mandalorians are trained to be completely conscious of their environment. Made it harder for any sort of assailants. 

Or sneaks like her. 

The only people she was able to successfully startle were the children.

She’d never really encountered an adult who could be alarmed so easily. Before now. 

So how could she resist?

She took one heavy step behind him. And sure enough, he whipped around, eyebrows up and muscles tense. 

She just couldn’t help grinning. 

The annoyance on his face only encouraged her. 

  
  
  


**✦ Picking up ✦**

Fear.

Pure, undiluted fear was what coursed through Avara when she realised he couldn’t breathe. She called his name but he couldn’t reply.

Then she saw him palm his chest and realised there was no blood, except on his knuckles, and the fear eased slightly as she realised. 

He was just winded. 

He would be alright. 

It wasn’t happening again. He was just winded. 

This played over and over in her mind as she dragged him back to the _Ember_ , relief increasing as she felt him gain back his balance and his breath. Though she was unwilling to let him go, even after she noticed he could walk the rest of the way without her help. 

  
  
  


**✦ Patching up ✦**

Avara’s neck was throbbing. The mugger had had a strong grip, though not for long. Her grey scarf was hiding the finger-marks that she knew were there. Her cheek was also stinging but it was barely a bruise. 

She grabbed the med-kit Bee had brought them and rummaged through as Poe comforted his distressed droid.

Poe wasn’t too well off. He’d had the wind knocked out of him during the fight and she knew from experience what that was like. She couldn’t treat that, but she could manage the scrapes on his face.

He was concerned about her too and when she replied, she knew her voice had sounded raspy, making her throat throb slightly. His eyebrows had twitched downwards at the sound of it but he didn’t press. 

After an amusing conversation about whether he looked good or not with his face battered up, (which was exactly what she expected of him,) she moved fast, also knowing how horrible the disinfectant wipes felt. 

She ripped one open and quickly held it to his cheek. His cry of pain made her flinch as he jerked away and looked at her woundedly. 

But she did it again after warning him, this time gently holding the other side of his head to keep him still. She ignored the way he stiffened, trying to bear the stinging. His hair was soft under her palm.

She couldn’t help her eyes wandering over his face as he squeezed his own shut, his eyelashes brushing the tops of his cheeks.

He was easy to admire. 

When she was done, he opened his eyes and she took the chance to hold his lightly stubbled chin and tilt his head. 

To better inspect the wound. Or so she told herself.

She couldn’t be sure, but his bruised cheek was pinkening slightly, under her scrutiny. 

And then out of nowhere, he softly told her that her hands were cold.

It was startling. Almost unnerving. It was like a wild animal had suddenly been tamed. The uncontrollable and chaotic was suddenly calm and mild. Soft.

She was unable to stop herself from smirking slightly at his comment as she apologised and pulled away. 

Then he said that her cool hands were soothing. 

And her smile grew as she wondered if he’d had more alcohol than she’d noticed. And she looked into his eyes to see if there were any signs of it there.

This was a mistake. She hadn’t fully realised how close her face was to his until their gazes met, just for that split second.

  
  
  


**✦ Concentration ✦**

She was holding the speederbike steady for him as he gripped the small crowbar and jammed it into the wrongly placed repulsor. 

And once again, her eyes flicked to his face. It was hard not to smile. She had to purse her lips to keep one off her face.

His brows were furrowed, deeper than usual. They must’ve been at their limit. And the tip of his tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth. 

He was so completely focused on the repulsor. So completely unaware of his face. 

Something akin to fondness was curdling in her chest but it didn’t really bother her. It should have.

When the repulsor finally popped off, he brightened momentarily, eyebrows shooting up. Then he caught sight of her barely repressed grin. 

It was mere seconds before he was desperately gripping her arm, holding her in place as she struggled and chuckled, refusing to tell him why she was smiling. 

Finally, she tells him, and his face turns crimson as she allows her laughter to expand. 

He shoves her lightly, which sets her off more and when he turns away he unintentionally reveals a grease stain on his cheek. 

She points it out and actually begins to reach out to wipe it off herself when she realises that’s a bad idea.

But he knocks her hand away himself, and she finds herself laughing harder than she has in quite a while.

She gets up to leave, still smiling. And stupidly, stupidly mumbles _copikla_ under her breath. 

She doesn’t realise he’s heard it till later that night. 

  
  
  


**✦ Pinned ✦**

Avara was thoroughly enjoying herself. She hadn’t had an opponent this easy in years. And she wasn’t about to just let him win. She was positively thrumming with excited energy.

Poe was standing across from her and also carrying a wrench in his right hand like she was. 

He was gleaming with sweat and one wet curl was stuck against his forehead. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he tried to analyse her. 

But she knew she wasn’t giving anything away. Relaxed stance and shoulders dropped, unlike his tense and prepared posture. 

Though this didn’t mean she wasn’t ready. 

He glared at her, his dark eyebrows low over his eyes, only making her smirk more. Then he lunged. 

Every move he made, she saw coming. It was easy. Too easy. She almost laughed as he flailed and tripped backwards over her artfully placed foot. 

Until he hit the ground with a horrible pained sound and curled up on his side like a child, arms wrapped around his chest. 

She’d forgotten all about his bruised ribs. 

She dropped down next to him, guilt swooping through her, vaguely aware of her wrench clattering loudly on the floor. And laid her hand on his shoulder. 

Mistake. 

Within seconds Poe had her firmly pinned with a knee on either side of her torso. And he was grinning down at her. 

She’d stared up at him in shock for a second, before desperately throwing a fist. 

But she was small. And he was heavier and bigger. All he had to do was lean back a bit. And he did, also grabbing her wrists tightly and laughing, the corners of his eyes wrinkling up in glee.

She called herself an idiot, before attempting to claim an unjust victory. Which he swiftly and neatly disregarded.

How the tables had turned. 

Now he was the one smirking with the upper hand, and she was glaring. 

  
  


And then the tables were suddenly nonexistent because they were staring at each other and he had something beautifully startled, gleaming behind his eyes and there was a rush was running down her spine and she was confused and so tense and it was _because of him and how he was looking at her and-_

  
  


His little droid interrupted. 

And she fled, panic clawing up her throat. 

Her back hit her cabin door as it closed behind her and she struggled to slow her breathing. 

This was dangerous. She knew it. It was foolish. She knew better. And she’d _still_ let it come up to this point. How could she?

She paced the short length of her room, blood pounding in her ears, before stopping. She pressed her forehead to the cold wall and closed her eyes, taking breaths, trying to slow herself down. 

What happened… it couldn’t happen again. She couldn’t let it. 

  
  
  


**✦ The kid ✦**

Avara was telling Riko about Sundari when they re-entered the hall. It was mostly empty now. 

Poe was still where she left him, at the table where they had eaten lunch. 

Just the sight of him made their conversation falter. They stood there for a second, just watching Poe and the small blonde-haired girl interact.

The kid jumped off the bench and sprung into a fighting stance. Even from a distance, Avara could see a couple of things that the girl could improve on, but she was more or less in perfect form.

Poe held up a hand and it was punched, by the looks of it, quite solidly too.

He looked delighted as he shook his hand out and said something to the child who giggled, shuffling her feet shyly. Avara couldn’t help smiling at the cuteness of the whole scene.

Riko chuckled from next to her and they glanced at each other before sauntering in.

The girl noticed them first, saying something to Poe before rushing over to Riko who lifted her up into his arms.

The kid’s name was Naura. The same one who’d left a trail through the streets of Corellia for her and Poe to follow.

Poe offered a charmingly sweet compliment, making Naura go red with pleasure and Avara grinned wider. And then they looked at each other, for a second, just smiling. Poe’s eyes were sparkling.

Riko set the girl down, telling her to go back to her siblings.

And Naura, not knowing Avara’s name, says goodbye to Poe’s wife in Mando’a. 

And Avara is left there, struggling for words as Riko cackles and as Poe just looks confused.

It was wishful thinking, believing there’s a chance that he won’t ask what Naura had said.

But he did, and Avara was forced to tell him that there was a little girl who believed that they were a married couple.

And now both of their faces were red. 

And Riko continued to laugh.

  
  
  


**✦ Explosion and Rescue ✦**

They were running back the way they’d come in. Avara, Darro and Juna. The charges were placed and it was time to go. Riko had already been told to take his ‘Green Team’ back to the Ember.

They’d kept a low profile, running into a meager amount of only nine stormtroopers on their way in, the rest distracted by Riko’s rather destructive tactics on the other side of the shipyard. So they hadn’t expected to encounter more troopers on their way out. 

Especially not from behind them.

Darro and Avara were following several meters behind Juna who was running ahead. She had glanced back to see if they were following and froze, yelling a warning.

Too late.

Avara turned her head and just in time to see a blaster bolt hit Darro’s back.

  
  


It was weirdly silent. The static of her commlink with the Ember was no longer there. And for a second she panicked, thinking something had happened back at the ship. To Poe. 

But no, it was her who was lying there, injured. So it was more likely that the Ember was fine. 

But wait. There _was_ noise. Ringing. 

It took a second to realise it was from her own ears. 

She was lying face down. She knew she could move but everything was unbearably heavy. When Juna hazily appeared over her she’d just grunted and pointed to Darro in a silent question. 

She could see his blue armour just a bit further down the hall. He wasn’t moving.

But Juna had nodded, understanding. He’s alright, came the message. Alive.

Avara was told to stay where she was. They’d come back for her. 

She scoffed to herself as Juna moved away, towards Darro. Like she was gonna go anywhere.

But her twisted amusement slipped away as she watched Juna begin to drag Darro down the corridor, and something cold dropped into her stomach. It was all she could do not to throw up in her helmet. There was already something wet and sticky on the insides though. So she might’ve already vomited, but it didn’t smell like vomit. So maybe not.

Juna had said they’d come back. So she waited, carefully testing the strength in her limbs. Nothing seemed gravely hurt but her head threatened to make her blackout whenever she tried lifting it. 

It felt like mere seconds before she heard footsteps. Maybe she _had_ blacked out for a while.

And then three stormtroopers barrelled straight past her, boots thumping past her lying form with blaster fire accompanying the ringing in her ears. 

She shifted her head and it began to pound, the pain blackening the edges of her vision.

But she took deep breaths and tried to see where the troopers had gone, what they were shooting at. And her heart dropped. 

They’d cornered Poe.

_Poe_? Why was he here? Why not someone else? He was too vulnerable. Too valuable. 

Out of all the people that could’ve come to rescue her, the one person that wasn’t wearing any armour had appeared. Why didn’t Riko stop him?

She watched Poe’s hand shake as he dropped his blaster. He was pale. Or maybe it was just the harsh white lighting.

So she lifted her head, determined, trying (but failing) to push herself onto all fours, and hurled an insult as loud as she could. 

They turned and Avara glimpsed desperation flicker across Poe’s face as two troopers jogged towards her.

She would have stood up to greet them, but all she could really do was lift her head. Her blaster was lying out of reach and she knew she didn’t have the strength to slash a knife.

They held her by the forearms and hauled her up. 

She couldn’t support her own weight so they half dragged half carried her between them, before throwing her in front of a kneeling Poe whose face was the picture of fear and worry.

She guessed she didn’t look too good.

Her head was pure agony but she _had_ to be alert. It wasn’t just her life on the line now. 

Poe’s attention was on her, protectively pulling her closer to him and helping her to sit up. 

But she had heard the whines of blasters powering up around them.

There was absolutely no situation in which Poe could be killed if she was near.

She grabbed him, pulling him into her, cupping his head and flicking her wrist, arming her vambrace. 

She could feel the shock of her actions in his tense muscles but he responded, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding tightly. It grounded her.

And she let her precious Whistling Birds fly.

Poe buried deeper into her shoulder, flinching at the noise. She tightened her arms, clinging to him as she watched the pinpricks of light whirl around and find their marks in the chinks of white plastoid armour.

Seven dead stormtroopers later, they were still holding each other.

Poe was so warm and close. Avara watched him, her visor barely an inch from his face, as he glanced around. She was glad to see that the fear which had saturated his face was slowly giving way to wonder.

But he was still trembling. Maybe he had noticed how the blasters had been aimed at them right before she’d grabbed him.

Avara was reluctant to let go, half afraid she would just keel over if she did. 

The other half just didn’t want to let go. Especially not while he looked so frightened.

But she had to, letting him stand up as he answered his comm.

  
  
  


**✦ Muran ✦**

Avara wasn’t sure Poe knew what was happening to him. 

His breathing had suddenly gone harsh and he was struggling backwards to get out of the small space he’d followed her into. She was calling to him but the only replies were his whimpers as he heaved for air.

There was a dull thump and Avara realised Poe must’ve hit the wall behind him. She scrambled forward quickly, her sharp movements almost throwing her off balance as her head throbbed. 

She still hadn’t got her wound looked at. 

But how could she ask for help for a stupid bump on her head when Darro was lying there…

But Poe needed help. And she could give it to him. 

She sat in front of him, hesitating for a second. Would he mind? Mind her touching him in his vulnerability?

But she threw her indecision aside. May as well try.

Avara could see where his face was. It was glittering with sweat, and the reflections of the orange and blue lights flickering around them.

So she steeled herself, and gently pressed a hand against his warm face, waiting for him to recoil. 

But he didn’t... and she heard his voice, muffled in her mind.

_your hands are cold… soothing_

And she remembered how he’d hung on to her while the Whistling Birds surrounded them.

So she shifted closer and slipped her unoccupied hand around the back of his neck, fingers slipping into the bottom of his damp hair.

And automatically, he curled closer and his forehead settled onto her shoulder.

She could feel the shuddering breaths wracking through him and she tightened her hold on him, a wave of protective anger blazing through her. 

He didn’t deserve this.

She turned her head, her cheek pressing into his curls, so that her lips were right above his ear. And she closed her eyes trying to evade her overwhelming worry, deepening her own breathing for his sake. 

She began murmuring gently.

Telling him that he was safe. That she had got him.

And she began directing him, teaching him how to breathe again. The first few minutes seemed to make no impact.

But then after what might’ve been her hundredth ‘in’, she felt him heave a breath and hold it till she released him with the following ‘out’.

  
  


And when his breathing was relatively normal, she didn’t move. She should have. She should have pulled away because her job was done.

But she didn’t. She stayed there, feeling tension leaching out from her in the comfort of having someone close. 

It had been months since she’d left Mandalore. And she hadn’t hugged anyone since.

So she stayed there, selfishly clinging to Poe’s solid warmth, letting it soothe her too.

She felt him shift slightly and she loosened her grip in case he wanted to move away from her. But he didn’t.

And then she asked him, wanting to know if she was correct. If the pilot he’d lost was more to Poe than another pilot friend. Much more.

And he was.

And he began to cry, his face still tucked into her as he finally realised, finally accepted that Muran’s death wasn’t his fault.

And she stroked his hair, as someone had once done for her. Tears were sliding down her face too, as she felt his pain, his grief, churn deep inside her chest.

It was a familiar feeling.

  
  
  


**✦** **_Kaden_ ** **✦**

Happiness burst in her chest as she heard a call. The call announcing their leader. Her _buir_. 

She rushed over, jumping into him, metal clanging from their cuirass’. His chuckle crackled from his helmet as he let her slide back down into the sand to stand in front of him. 

They leaned their helmets against each other and she smiled behind her visor.

She was amusedly listening to how he hadn’t expected her back so soon when Poe’s little droid shrieked from behind her. She turned.

Bee was racing back towards the Ember. Where a familiar blue figure stood. 

Pointing a blaster at Poe. 

And everything was forgotten as her jetpack ignited. The fear that Penn would do something stupid before she could get there made her fly dangerously fast. 

She landed heavily in the sand, two large paces behind her partner and let the momentum of the flight throw her into Penn. 

Rage fueled her, and they writhed in the sand savagely until metal knocked into the side of her helmet. Agony exploded from the wound that Poe had carefully wrapped up.

It was this painful distraction that allowed Penn to roll himself over her, holding her down.

But his weight was ripped off her and she was left there, lying in the sand trying to breathe through the pain. 

However, the fear was gone. Poe was no longer in danger. 

She blearily lifted her head to drag herself up. 

Only to discover that her partner was, in fact, _not_ out of danger. Instead of a blaster, now it was a knife.

She should’ve known he would do something as reckless as fling himself at an aggressive Mandalorian.

Poe’s scream ripped through her and panicked instinct deployed her grappling line. Somehow it hit its mark, curling around Penn’s vambrace, disrupting the motion that had been about to see the blade into Poe’s neck. 

It took a second to realise that Poe wouldn’t have been struck. Her father’s wire was also attached to the blue vambrace. 

She winched back the line and yanked hard, jerking the blue idiot off Poe as fury once again flooded her. She would’ve lunged at him again if her head didn’t feel like it was splitting open. 

Her father lumbered over to pull the grappling lines away as he scolded Penn. Another familiar set of blue armour landed near her father.

She lashed out at Penn from where she was sitting, fists trembling with leftover fear as she clenched them. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Paz and her Papa exchange looks as she gave Penn a piece of her mind. 

Buir spoke and put an end to it, but she wasn’t done.

In that second, she didn’t care that she’d known Penn for years. She didn’t care that she loved his father like an uncle. 

She promised, out loud, for them all to hear. 

Poe Dameron was under her protection. If someone hurt him they wouldn’t be spared. 

She meant it. 

  
  
  


**✦ Graze ✦**

Avara knocked on his door. 

She was feeling a bit guilty at having just left him so abruptly when he had no one else he knew nearby. But, he’d been with Cara so at least that was a good sign.

The door opened and it was like a flashback. 

A shirtless Poe stood there, with his ring glinting against his bare chest and she had to stop herself from sharply averting her gaze like she had the last time.

She glanced down at Bee who had chirped at her happily and gave him a wink before looking back up, focusing on Poe’s face. Only his face. His eyes were narrowed slightly, as if he had noticed and was enjoying her slight discomfort.

She tells him she has food, and on this basis, he lets her in with a grin.

But she’s also here to tell him that tonight will be Darro’s funeral and the room seems to go a bit cold as she says it.

Then she pulls out the Uj cake she brought and it distracts him, which distracts her. 

And his eyes gleam wickedly when he tells her that Cara told him a story. And much to his amusement she slumped into a chair and groaned.

She should’ve seen it coming. Cara loved to tell anyone who would listen about how they ‘became acquaintances’. 

Cara wasn’t technically her mother, but the woman had almost as much to do with Avara’s bringing up as Papa had.

Then Poe put a bit of the cake in his mouth and moaned from across the table. Avara couldn’t do anything but smile, to hide the warmth that bloomed as he relaxed and munched on the sweet treat she’d brought him.

He’d slung an arm over the back of the chair he’d sprawled into and still hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on. His tan skin was glowing in the sun, and the long curls that were drooping over his forehead cast his eyes into shadow, illuminating the tip of his nose, cheekbones and lips. 

So she directed her gaze out the window because she couldn’t let her gaze drop below his head when there was such a large chance he would see. 

It would’ve been about a minute later when she realised, out of the corner of her eye, that he’d been staring at her the whole time. 

She squirmed, trying to keep her face impassive, suddenly hyper-aware of his gaze, unable to think of anything other than how his eyes were fixed on her.

And then, unexpectedly, he gently whispers the two words of gratitude. For what, she doesn’t understand. She didn’t save his life. Neither time. 

But she looks into his eyes and sees what he’s not saying. And she gives him a tiny nod, understanding, watching him as he ducked his head timidly.

It might’ve been that little gesture, that shy way he’d avoided her eyes, which drew her hand into the automatic graze of her fingers through his curls as she walked past. 

It was a habit of hers, through hair or over a helmet, a fleeting gesture of affection.

It was the same way she’d do it to anyone she cared about. 

The twins, her brother, her father. Even Penn when they’d been younger. Even...

She’d stiffened after, stomach dropping as she realised what she’d done, not looking back as she left him still sitting at the table behind her.

  
  
  


**✦ Little One ✦**

It slipped out before she could stop and he looked down at her frowning.

She had a brother, but she’d never told him before. And because of it, his face had taken on a hurt expression.

And she was furious with herself as she felt the arm around her shoulders slacken slightly.

She hadn’t meant to keep it close to her like it was a secret. It wasn’t. But the fact she hadn’t told her partner, her friend, that she had a brother… It was such a little thing, a little detail, but it hurt him. 

When she first met Poe, she never would've thought he was one to be ruled by his emotions. But he was, so strongly.

He let go of her the second they reached Cara, and his muted greeting to the woman felt like a bucket of water poured over Avara.

Cara as always, noticing everything, raised her eyebrows in question. 

She’d talked with Poe for barely half an hour earlier that day, and it was obvious even to her that he was being uncharacteristically silent.

All Avara could do was shake her head very slightly. _Not now._

So she picked at her food and until someone came saying her father wanted her. The relief she felt at escaping the meal was tinged with guilt, but she knew she would apologise to him later.

She looked at him over her shoulder, as she walked away.

**✦** **✦** **✦**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> burc'ya - friend, pal (can be used ironically, as it is here)  
> Buir - parent (father/mother)
> 
> Wow, I actually really enjoyed writing this one. So, what did you guys think about Avara's perspective? Different than what you thought?


	21. Starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5 of Day 1 on Mandalore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap of Chapter 19:  
> Poe goes to the Djarins' to shave, meets the little one with the floating X-Wing.  
> Then Penn is made to take him to the west city boundary to where Deccol is, watching the sunset.

***

**[** **_It was an excruciating twenty minutes._ **

**_They finally reached a doorway, similar to the one Poe had first come through when he entered the dome. There were two guards who stood up as Penn and Poe approached._ **

**_“Is Djarin outside?”_ **

**_“Elek. She went right, along the edge of the dome,” said one guard while the other walked to the door panel. It opened with a hiss and Poe had to squint suddenly as the harsh brilliance of the low sun beamed in._ **

**_He strode out the doorway, ignoring Penn but giving the guards a nod, turning right to find his partner with melancholy kindling in his stomach._ ** **]**

***

The cold breeze slammed into him when he stepped outside and he almost backtracked his steps, back into the warmth of the domed city. But Penn was there. And he would definitely enjoy it if Poe showed that he was feeling cold.

So he walked on, around the edge of the dome. It wasn’t long before he caught sight of her.

Deccol was sitting on some mat, leaning against the dome wall. Something in her hands flashed and glinted at Poe, as she fiddled with some object. Her helmet was on, probably to protect her from the sand that was being flung up in the wind. 

His own eyes were wrinkled but the sand was persistent against his face and neck and he was already shivering lightly. It had been a bad idea to come out here unprepared.

Deccol looked up as he approached, straightening suddenly. Poe had surprised her. He guessed he was the last person she’d expect to see out here. 

She pulled her helmet off as he got closer and he watched the wind buffet her hair over her forehead. 

He was just opening his mouth to greet her when sand stung in his eye painfully. He groaned and turned away, desperately rubbing it.

The wind eased slightly.

“Don’t rub it, just blink rapidly. The tears will push the sand out.”

So he blinked, letting tears gather. 

She was standing in front of him, shielding him from the wind that was attacking from behind her. And sure enough the stinging eased. He looked up, finally.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You grew up on Yavin Four. It’s very different from here,” she replied. 

There was a hesitant smile on her face and he remembered that he’d been upset the last time they talked. So he returned the smile and saw some of the tension in her shoulders release.

“Here, take this. Keep your mouth and nose covered.”

She was holding out her grey scarf, the one she almost always had.

He took it. It was softer than he’d expected, and thinner, woven tightly.

“ _You_ won’t need it?”

“I’ve got my helmet if the sand bothers me.”

So he wound the scarf around his neck and drew it up over his nose, still squinting his eyes.

“How did you find me?” she asked, settling back down onto her mat.

He pursed his lips as he sat down next to her. “Penn brought me.”

The look she gave him almost made him laugh.

“Don’t worry, he didn’t attack me this time.”

“Why did he bring you?”

“Your father made him. I think it was some sort of punishment.”

“You went to my apartment?”

“Yeah. I wanted to shave but there wasn’t a mirror in my ‘fresher.”

She scoffed and he nodded.

“Yeah. I, uh, I met your brother.” 

He fidgeted restlessly, picking up the metal object she’d been fiddling with when he came. 

“Hang on,” he said suddenly as he recognised it. “This is like one of his toys.”

The scrap metal was the same as that X-wing figure. 

He looked up to see she was frowning, confused.

“Oh, while I was shaving, your brother brought me this metal X-wing. It looked like this,” he explained, holding the metal up.

“Oh,” she said, understanding. “Yeah, I made it. I like making them.”

They were caught in an awkward silence after he nodded.

“Listen, I-”

“I didn’t-”

And they both froze. 

He grinned. 

“I went first the last time,” he said, remembering how this had happened before.

She huffed, looking away with a small smile. 

The setting sun turned her brown eyes a warm orange as she looked into the sky.

“I didn’t tell you about my brother because, well, his history is a bit complicated. He-”

“I know.”

She blinked, caught off guard. 

“What?”

“Cara told me. She explained.”

Deccol nodded slowly. 

“She knows the story best, besides Papa himself.”

“Yeah. What I’m trying to say, is that you don’t have to apologise. I understand why you didn’t tell me. I get it.”

Her eyes grow warm as she looks at him.

“But what you failed to tell me was how kriffing cute he is.”

She chuckled, turning her gaze to the sun again. 

It was hovering over the horizon, just a sphere of gold.

“I’ve never heard of someone so young using the Force so well though. He must be strong with it.”

She looked at him then, amusement sparking as if she was thinking about something funny.

“What?”

“Poe, he’s almost seventy years old.”

For a second he thought she was having him on.

“He’s... seventy.”

“Mhm.” 

She was watching him carefully, probably enjoying the vaguely dazed look he most likely had on his face. 

“Papa found him when he was fifty. He’s a species that supposedly ages real slowly. We know nothing else. We don’t know where he’s from. Papa searched for several years.”

“I- Wow. Ok.”

She laughed then and he grinned sheepishly, basking in the warmth of the sound.

“He was listening to me, I think. I was thinking about my X-wing and suddenly there’s one hovering next to my head. He scared the shit outta me.”

“Well, it’s not that hard to scare you.”

“Shut up.”

She sniggered.

“I mean Leia has taught me how to put up mental blocks to stop Force-users from doing stuff like that, but I never thought I’d need to with a seventy-year-old baby.”

She grinned at him curiously. 

“How much do you know about it?”

“About what?”

“The Force. We don’t know very much about it.”

“I know a decent amount, I guess. We have a Force tree back home on Yavin.”

“A Force tree?”

She sounded disbelieving.

“Yeah. My mother and Luke Skywalker rescued a few saplings that were taken by Imperials, from the old Coruscant Jedi Temple. Then he gave us one of them because that was her last mission with the Rebellion, and my parents planted it outside our home.”

Deccol was quiet for a moment. 

“But how does a tree use the Force?”

Poe gave a light laugh. 

“It doesn’t _use_ the Force, it channels it.”

She just raised her eyes skeptically, still not understanding, and he shifted around on the mat, preparing to explain.

“See, the Force is energy. It’s… well, it’s the force that binds the galaxy together. It’s in every living thing, everywhere. I don’t know how or why, but our tree is a point at which the Force travels through.”

“But not all of us can _use_ it even though we all have it.”

“Exactly.”

She was quiet, just contemplating the information.

“I think Papa will want to pick your brains on the topic. Ever since he found the little one, he’s been searching for answers, explanations.”

“Maybe he should talk to Leia, she knows more.”

“Because she’s the daughter of a Force-user? That Sith Lord?”

“No, because she’s the sister of a Jedi.”

Deccol smiled a bit at that. 

“Right. The Luke Skywalker guy?”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know, I used to think those were just stories,” she said after a second. “Skywalker, Han Solo, all of that. I thought they were just made up to explain the fall of the Empire.”

“No. It’s real.”

She sighed, flicking her eyebrows up briefly and she leaned back against the wall.

“Overwhelmed?” he asked, grinning at her silence. 

Her skin looked golden as the edge of the sun touched the horizon.

“Not really. Just surprised, I guess,” she said, chuckling. “Is that what you want to be?”

“Be what?”

“A story. A legend.”

He smiled slightly.

“I grew up on stories of the Rebellion. I joined the Resistance because I couldn't turn a blind eye and ignore the First Order like so many others. Not after Muran.”

She nodded in the corner of his eye.

“If I do become a legend, well, so be it. But what all I want to be is someone who helped, or _tried_ to help take the First Order down.”

He looked at her then, suddenly feeling slightly self-conscious.

But she nodded again, something like approval glinting in her eyes.

“You'd make a good Mandalorian.”

He laughed as he picked up her piece of metal. He fiddled with it, trying to figure out what it was, as he wondered what she’d say to his next question.

“What’s the deal between you and Penn? You two didn't always hate each other, right?”

“No,” she muttered, staring at her hands, suddenly restless. “We became good friends when we were young. Best friends, maybe. But he grew up to be… well, a self-entitled jerk. And there’s a bit more of a history between us.”

She looked… sad. The normal light in her eyes almost dimmed. Poe didn’t like it.

“History?” he asked, then paused, nerves suddenly putting him on edge. “Romantic?”

She looked at him then, feeble amusement twisting into her face.

“In a way. Not how you’d expect.”

“Would you tell me the story?”

“I don’t know. It’s long. And I don’t usually like remembering it.”

“Someone died.” 

He stated it rather than asked because he knew he was right.

She nodded, face unreadable.

“I’m guessing you don’t like funerals then,” he said softly, thinking of the one scheduled for that night.

“I hate them,” she said firmly. 

But the corners of her mouth twitched up as she continued to gaze distantly at her hands.

“I don’t like them either,” he agreed. “Me and funerals, we don’t get along.”

“Why not?” she asked, glancing up at him. “What happened?”

“Well, at my mother's funeral I broke a girl’s arm. I pushed her out of the tree, it’s a long story,” he said quickly, flapping his hands to shush the questions he saw coming. 

She smiled faintly. 

“And then at Muran’s, I punched my commanding officer and got detained.”

“Sounds a bit like me,” she murmured, and he grinned briefly.

The sun had gone, now just an orange glow, disappearing under dark blue. A strong buffet of wind scraped past them, making Poe shiver suddenly in his thin shirt.

“Why didn’t you wear your jacket?” she almost snapped.

“I didn’t know I’d be coming out here,” he huffed.

“C’mon, let's go back in then,” she said decisively, moving to stand.

“No!” he yelped, trying to grab her arm to keep her in place. “No, I like it, sitting out here.”

She gave him a doubtful look. 

He was pretty sure he was covered in the pale sand and he was no longer able to hold off the quivers that would slip through him whenever a strong gust swept past.

Honestly, he just liked sitting with her and talking. If it took place outside the city’s dome while he wasn’t wearing a jacket at dusk, then so be it. It was worth it.

“Get up,” she ordered.

“What?” he whined. “No.”

“Just get up, _or’dinii_.”

He scowled, crossing his arms before the Mando’a reminded him of his new nickname.

“Hey, Paz called me _Jaro’ika_. What’s it mean?”

There was a beat and then she snickered. 

“ _Jaro_ means to have a death wish. Like, committing a stupid act of recklessness. I suppose it was because you jumped Penn.”

Poe pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“I like it,” he said finally.

“Of course you would. Now get up.”

“I’m fine,” he lied. “See? I’ve got a princess’ scarf.”

He drew it back up, over his nose. It had slipped down a while ago. “It’s all I need.”

The scarf smelled nice. 

She rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah, that’s why you’re shivering. Just get up, Poe.”

He didn’t move.

“I’ll drag you if I have to.”

“You sound like Penn,” he growled, frowning and pulling her scarf up higher. “I’m also too heavy for you.”

“I’d manage,” she said, eyes flashing mischievously.

And that was all the motivation he needed to stand up. That evil glint in her eye.

She smirked as he stood up sullenly in the sand. She scooped up the mat they’d been sitting on and shook it, removing the sand.

Then she turned back to him with a repressed grin.

“Sit down.”

Poe blinked.

“What?”

“It’s designed to keep the wind out,” she said, holding the mat up.

He looked at her in furious disbelief for a moment, then plonked himself back down onto the sand, glaring up at her grumpily.

She laughed as she swept the mat around his shoulders, wrapping it around him tightly.

“Why’d you not just tell me, you didn’t have to take me on a loop.”

He had to admit, it _was_ warm.

“You would’ve thought I was trying to trick you.”

Poe gave her a look that confirmed this and she grinned again.

“What, are _you_ not feeling cold?” he asked as he snuggled further into the mat.

“I’m used to it. I’m not a little Yavin Four weakling,” she said, eyes sparking at him as she sat back down.

“Very funny. You call _me_ little and yet…” 

He trailed off, shaking his head for dramatic effect and she shoved him.

“This _is_ big enough to cover us both though.”

She gave him an uncharacteristically sharp look and he subdued, instantly realising that maybe he’d gone too far. 

But seconds later she elbowed him. 

“Ok fine, open up. I’m coming in.”

He tried to hide his delight as he held her side of the blanket out. 

She squashed against him, shoulder to shoulder, and pulled it around her tightly. 

Then she turned her gaze up, to where faint stars were beginning to brighten and he followed her eyes. 

“Do you know the names?”

“Some. That one,” she said, sticking a finger out from within the mat to point, “that’s Agafya.”

Agafya flickered weakly at them.

“What about that one?” he asked, pointing to one just above the horizon.

“That’s Haemon. He follows the sun down. Never up for long.”

Her voice was soft.

He looked directly up, spotting a bright blue star. 

“That one?”

When she didn’t reply he looked back down. She was staring away from him.

He was about to speak, to ask her what was wrong, when she replied tersely. 

“ _Syra_. That one is Syra.”

Something was different. As if the air had soured around them. 

“Deccol-” he began softly before she interrupted. 

“Avara.”

“What?”

“ _Avara_.”

“Ok,” he whispered. His mouth had gone dry. _Avara_.

“What’s wrong?”

“Remember that story I mentioned? The long one that I don’t like remembering?”

He remained silent, feeling guilty. He’d pushed her boundary again. 

It stung. To be so close and warm next to her when she was obviously hurting but refusing to let him in. 

They were quiet for the next few minutes, as the stars grew brighter in the rapidly darkening sky. 

Decc- _Avara_ still wasn’t meeting his eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push.”

She just sighed tiredly, studying the frayed edge of the mat in front of her chin. 

“Not your fault, Poe.”

“I’ll steer clear of it. If that would make you feel better,” he murmured. 

She nodded. 

“What time will dinner be?” he asked suddenly, attempting to change the subject. 

Avara looked up and it took Poe a second to realise that she was looking for the star on the horizon. What had she called it? 

“By tradition, when Haemon disappears, the bell for dinner is rung.”

“We should get back then,” he mumbled, disappointed. 

The star was lower, disappearing.

“Yeah.”

She ducked out from under the mat, letting the wind in for a second and making him flinch. 

“C’mon.”

She pulled him up and they set off, walking back toward the doorway he’d come through. 

But, before they even got to the doorway, a Mandalorian appeared in the sky, silhouetted by the fire of the jetpack. 

They landed in front of them.

Penn.

Poe glanced to De- Avara to see that she had adopted a cold look on her face.

“You’re wanted. _Mand’alor_ says you’re to be in ceremonial for the funeral after dinner.”

“But I’m not in Court.”

“You’re Second _Jur’Dhakad_.”

Poe looked back to Avara. Her expression was shifting from confused to satisfied.

“Since when?”

Penn was silent and Poe could almost feel the fury from the blue armour.

A slow smile was spreading on Avara's face. Her eyes had a dark gleam in them. 

She looked dangerous.

Poe swallowed nervously. He’d never seen her like this.

“Ah. I see. Don’t worry,” she said to Penn, a sneering tone creeping in. “It won’t be for too long.”

Penn turned and his pack ignited, thrusting him back into the air. 

Poe waited until he was out of sight, before turning to Avara. 

“What was that about?”

“That was Penn’s real punishment. For attacking you.”

He waited for her to explain further. When she didn’t he asked.

“What did it mean?”

“ _Dhakad_ is the Darksaber. It’s a special weapon, traditionally carried by the _Mand’alor_. But Papa, because he’s not the fighter he used to be, has delegated the duty of carrying or wielding it to a Second. Penn was that Second. He’s a good fighter and he’s skilled with the blade. But I was Second before I left.”

“And as a punishment, he doesn’t get to have it tonight,” followed Poe, understanding. “He said you had to be ‘in ceremonial’?”.

“Yeah, as the Leader’s Court we dress up a bit for ceremonies. Riko will be too. I’ve been told he’s been placed in Court as he’s _Alor_ of the Corellians.”

“That makes sense,” Poe mumbled.

“Yeah.”

***

This time at dinner, Poe was alone. So he sought out the Corellians. It was hard in such a large hall where everyone was dressed similarly. So instead he looked for the children. 

Again, just like in Corellia, the children were in the very centre of the hall, seated in the middle three tables. He scanned the faces and spotted Naura. Nudging his way through the crowd, he slipped towards her.

“Naura!”

She turned and waved when she spotted him. He automatically found himself smiling at the sight of her.

“Hey, how are you?” he asked, kneeling to bring himself to eye level.

“ _Jate_. I like it here,” she replied with a bright smile. 

“That’s good. I’m glad. Do you know where the others would be? Juna and Rusan?”

She stood up and clambered onto her bench to get a higher viewpoint, searching the back half of the room.

“There,” she said suddenly, pointing. 

He followed the line of her finger and caught a glimpse of Juna’s red armour.

“Right! Thanks, buddy!” 

He ruffled her hair and darted off in Juna’s direction before he lost her.

***

The funeral was half an hour after the end of dinner, held in a large park not far from the palace buildings. More people than Poe had expected had turned up. The covert had only been thirty people large but more than sixty had shown. 

In the center of the clearing was a large, neat stack of wood. Extending outward, Mandalorians stood around in circles. 

Poe had tried to back away, to sit at the back as he knew he had not known Darro for long. But both Juna and Riko had called him closer.

They knelt onto their knees with heads bowed, and murmured in gentle Mando’a.

_Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la._

It was soothing. Sad, but calm. 

Peaceful.

Then Rusan, Riko, Juna and Din stood. They were handed torches by who Poe recognised to be Elin, one of the twins Avara knew.

And the four held the fire to the corners of the pyre, flames flickering in their helmets.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> or’dinii - moron/fool  
> Jur’Dhakad - [I joined words for this:] (jur - carry) (dha - dark) (kad- saber)  
> Alor - leader/chief  
> jate - good/fine  
> Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la - Not gone, merely marching away. (A tribute to a dead comrade)
> 
> talking during sunset, what could be nicer huh?  
> Next chapter should be up soon! I'm currently watching Rebels for the first time. I've heard it shows a little more into the happenings on Mandalore during the Empire so it'll make it easier to make this fic just a tiny bit closer to canon.  
> And holy shit guys! 50K words? wtf!! I never would have thought I'd keep going with this for so long :)
> 
> Hope everyone is well,  
> \- Iye


	22. Pyre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5 of Day 1 on Mandalore

***

Poe could see Rusan. The Mando had painted a blue jagged line over the side of his visor. Like lightning. For Darro.

Avara had found him later, sitting against a tree as people milled and shared words. 

And he saw what it meant to be ‘in ceremonial’.

Her armour was gleaming, boots clean. She had a cape too, a black one, matching Din’s. It flowed behind her regally as she walked towards him. Her helmet had a white stripe painted down the side of her helmet and her chest plate matched. Poe had seen this on Din, Riko and Paz, as well as a few other Mandos he didn’t know. 

There was also a large ice blue four-pointed star, emblazoned over her the middle of her chest plate.

A blue star. _Syra_. 

But Poe had promised not to go there. 

A slim black hilt hung on her belt. It drew his gaze.

“That’s Darksaber?”

She looked down and nodded.

“What is it?" He'd expected some sort of sword, perhaps made of beskar. But it hit him seconds later.

"It’s a lightsaber,” he said, stunned. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes. A long time ago it belonged to a Mandalorian named Tarre Vizsla who was also a _Jetii_. He crafted it.”

“A Mandalorian Jedi,” echoed Poe. “Now that’s powerful.”

She hummed in agreement.

“Wait, Vizsla? Isn’t that…”

“Yeah. Paz and Penn are descendants.”

“Huh. So the punishment really was a harsh one.”

Her helmet tilted, amused. “Penn knows he has no more claim to it than anyone else. But yes, it’s special to Clan Vizsla.”

“That’s pretty cool,” he conceded. “Hey, so we still need to send a message to the base. Get our next mission.”

“Yeah. I can fly out to the _Ember_ and get the hologram after everything is done here.”

“Actually,” Poe began, “Beebs told me he’s got it with him. He didn’t leave it in the ship.”

She chuckled. 

“He’s a smart little thing. Send the message when you get back to him.”

Poe nodded as he spotted Cara heading towards them. 

“Ava," she called. "Din is looking for you. Better go see what he wants.”

“Right, thanks.” She turned to Poe. “If you get a reply on the holo, come get me.”

“Ok.”

“Good night, Poe.”

“You too, Avara.”

Something like bashful pride swelled in him as he used her first name. But he had to hide it, Cara was watching him closely. Too closely.

“ _Avara_ , huh? Finally on a first-name basis,” she teased, eyes glinting.

Poe rolled his eyes, but he was still watching Avara saunter off. He liked the cape. 

“It’s not that big of a deal. I think she just got tired of hearing me call her Deccol.”

“I bet she did.”

***

When he opened his eyes he was just confused. Everything was pitch black around him. 

Apart from BB-8’s lens peering at him from next to the bed.

Then the beeping registered. 

And he jolted up. The holo!

He snatched it from BB-8, looking at it with a frown. Unusual. 

Then he silenced the noise, quickly pulling on a change of pants before tugging on a shirt and his jacket. Stuffing the holo into his pocket he slipped out the door with his droid on his heels, wide awake. 

He managed to make it to the Djarins’ gold striped door without getting lost in the darkness of the city. He rapped on it softly and tilted his head listening for any noise that suggested someone had heard. 

No sounds. 

So he lifted his fist, about to knock again when the door jerked open into a sliver. 

“Why are you here at this time of night?” came Din’s growl, visor looking first at Poe, then glaring down at BB-8. 

Poe felt like shrinking away. 

“I came to-”

“Papa!” 

A hiss from behind Din made him turn, opening the door wider, and Poe relaxed with relief. Avara to the rescue.

“I told him to come. It’s important.”

Din heaved a sigh and backed away, shaking his head. 

“Just keep the noise down.”

“Oh? I was planning on making a ruckus.”

Din cuffed her gently around the head as she smirked at him. 

He disappeared deeper into the house as Poe stepped in. 

“We got a message then,” she said quietly as she turned on a lamp, filling the room with the yellow glow, illuminating half her face. Her hair was messy, probably from her sleep. 

“Yes, but it’s different,” he said, pulling the hologram out and handing it to her. “Leia wants to speak with us.”

Avara nodded slowly, thoughtful. 

“We have protected communication equipment. It’ll be suitable for a private transmission.”

BB-8 whirred. 

She frowned. 

“Now? We'll have to go to the palace buildings. That’s where the comms block is. We can-”

She broke off suddenly, turning her head, going perfectly still for a second. Then the tension disappeared from her frame and she growled. 

“ _Papa_! Stop listening. This is Resistance business.”

Din’s helmet peeked around the corner and Poe was tempted to smile.

“What, I can’t be worried about what danger my daughter is going to run into?”

“This isn’t you being worried, this is you being snoopy,” she grumbled as Poe tried to hide his amusement. 

There was a pause.

“I have the access codes for Communications.”

Avara pursed her lips and Poe scoffed slightly, giggling. 

“We can’t say no to that,” he breathed to her. 

She glared at him. “Fine. Let’s go now then.”

***

After Din dropped the baby upstairs at Cara’s place, he led the way towards the Palace Sector with Avara, Poe and BB-8 trailing behind. The little droid was crestfallen.

He had tried to introduce himself and chat to Din but the man had stiffly said he didn’t like droids, ruining BB-8’s spirits much to Avara’s slight entertainment. But she kept it hidden for the droid's sake.

Poe was slightly annoyed but there was no way he’d challenge Din.

They encountered two guards standing at the turbolift that led up to the Admin block of the Palace. They both snapped to attention as they caught sight of their leader and he hurriedly waved his hand, putting them at ease.

Poe got the impression Din was uncomfortable with the degree of the high esteem he was held to.

Avara struck up a friendly conversation with one of them as they waited for the turbolift to descend.

The communication room was large, filled with data-stations. They went to the nearest and Din flicked a switch, turning it on. Then he backed away as Poe moved in to enter Leia’s confidential frequency. 

He looked to Avara who gave him a nod, and he initiated the connection. They waited for a few terse seconds before Leia’s form was illuminated in a large blue hologram extended from the table.

Just seeing her was enough to make him grin. It was the same for her it seemed, as she smiled widely at him.

“ _Poe, Avara, it is good to see you._ ”

“And you, General,” he replied as Avara ducked her head in greeting.

BB-8 trilled happily and Leia nodded down at the droid.

“ _Hello, BeeBee. It’s good to see that you two actually seem to be getting along,_ ” she said, looking back up to the two of them.

Poe and Avara glanced at each other momentarily, smirking.

“General, allow me to introduce my father, Din Djarin.”

Din stepped closer with a respectful tilt of his head.

“ _Ah yes. You must be Mand’alor. It is an honour to meet you,_ ” Leia said, flickering slightly.

“Likewise, General Organa,” the older Mandalorian answered.

“ _Now, I must talk with you two commanders. The longer we use this channel the more likely one is likely to intercept it._ ”

Avara glanced over her shoulder at her father as he brushed a hand over her head and backed out of the room.

“Ok, what is it General?” asked Poe seriously, all business.

“ _The next mission is in Ord Mantell City. The reason I want to talk to you before you go is to give you a warning. The planet had a strong alliance with the old Empire, which means it’s likely that it's filled with First Order sympathisers,_ ” she began slowly.

“ _Three Resistance scouts have previously disappeared without any trace in the city. The last transmission from the latest scout told us of two First Order agents. Crul and Fera Mignin. They are brother and sister, allegedly pledged to the Order. We suspect they are the ones behind the disappearances of our scouts._ ”

Avara and Poe exchanged looks.

“And we are to take them out? And find the scouts?” Avara asked.

“ _Not necessarily. Our scouts have most likely been killed._ ”

Poe clenched his fists.

“ _We need information on their operations. That is the first priority. If assassination is possible, you are authorised to do so. But the information is what we really need. There is something bigger going on that we do not know._ ”

Avara and Poe nodded seriously.

“Understood.”

“ _You know what this means. They will be monitoring whoever enters the city, on the lookout for any opposition. Any Resistance._ ”

She was focusing on Poe there. And once again he found himself hating Yolo Ziff.

He sighed. 

“Right. They might know my face already. I’ll have to be more careful.”

Avara glanced over with a slight frown and he gave her an ‘I’ll-explain-later ’ look.

“ _Exactly,_ ” Leia agreed. “ _That means you’re going to take a backseat for this one._ ”

Poe scowled, glaring at his feet.

“ _Take your time. Don’t go rushing in head first,_ ” she warned.

They nodded.

“ _Any questions?_ ”

They looked at each other. None.

“ _Alright then. You have a personal message, Poe. Lieutenant Pava says that they’re all well._ ”

Poe felt a smile creeping onto his face as Leia continued. 

“ _Kar_ _é_ _and Snap are still dating-_ ” 

Poe scoffed at that, smile widening into a grin.

“ _-and Black One is being taken out on regular runs by your squadron._ ”

He couldn’t have asked for anything better to lift his mood.

“ _All in all, they send their love._ ”

“Thank you, General. Send mine back too,” he said, almost shyly.

Leia smiled. 

“ _Be safe, Commanders._ ”

Poe nodded and Avara ducked her head again as Leia’s blue form flickered out.

They stood there in silence for a second before looking at each other.

“Ord Mantell, huh?”

The voice came from behind them. Avara whipped her head around as Poe twitched, startled.

“ _Haar’chak_! Papa...,” Avara groaned, pinching her nose.

Din was leaning nonchalantly against the door they had walked in.

“I’ve been to the planet before. I can help.”

“That’s not the point! You need to stop sticking your nose in our business.”

Din just adjusted himself more comfortably against the door.

Poe sensed that he was amused at his daughter’s indignation.

“Well, he could help,” Poe said, attempting to be diplomatic. 

Avara narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Stop sucking up,” she growled to him before raising her voice. “Let’s go. Our business here is done.”

She glared at her father as she stomped out of the room, leaving Poe and Din in a slightly awkward silence. 

Din sighed. 

“Come on then,” he muttered to Poe with a jerk of his head. 

They were back on the streets, walking several paces behind Avara. She was clearly still annoyed. It was easy to see in her walk. Her stiff shoulders and the way the heels of her boots would scuff the ground with each step. 

Din was content with walking in silence. Poe was not.

“So, why did you adopt her?”

The Mandalorian was quiet, and for a second Poe thought he was being ignored. But the reply came.

“Her spirit. She reminded me of a friend I had when I was young. When I was still just a foundling.”

Poe looked over, eyebrows lifting. 

“You were a foundling? Also adopted?”

Din tilted his helmet.

“I wasn’t adopted by one, but taken in by the whole community.”

“So you didn’t have any Mandalorian parents. Not like she does,” Poe said, looking forward to Avara.

“No.”

There was a pause.

“I wasn’t treated badly or treated any less than any of the other children. But I wanted to give her what I didn’t have. Or, didn’t have for long, at least.”

A parent. A father.

Poe nodded, understanding.

“Ava tells me you followed in your mother’s footsteps.”

Poe smiled at the ground in front of them, chest warming.

“She was a pilot for the Rebellion.”

Din hummed thoughtfully. 

“An A-wing pilot, right?”

“Yeah.”

“During the Imperial occupation of Mandalore, there was an academy here. Some starfighters were kept in the city to help train pilots. I believe there were A-wings.”

Poe’s eyes went wide. 

“A-wings? Here?”

“I think so. Why don’t you ask Penn to take you,” Din suggested dryly, almost sounding mischievous.

“Very _funny_ ,” huffed Poe.

He wondered if Din was smiling under his helmet. The man clearly had a rather brutal sense of humour.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> Jetii - Jedi  
> Haar’chak! - damn it!
> 
> Haven't really got any comments specifically for this chapter, but I figured I'd let you guys know that I think I know how this fic is going to end.  
> The problem is, I have two possible endings and I don't know which one to go with. One is decent, soft ending, and the other treks down a darker path. This darker one will probably have to be a second work, an extension of this work.
> 
> If anyone has any opinions on this, obviously feel free to let me know in the comments :)  
> \- Iye


	23. Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Day 2 on Mandalore

***

The next morning BB-8 woke him up. But earlier than usual. 

On any other occasion, Poe would’ve just flopped back into bed and gone back to sleep as he was tired from his interrupted night.

But when Beebs pointed out a faint rhythmic drumming sound from outside, his curiosity was roused and he found himself getting dressed.

These Mandalorians were interesting, no doubt.

The little droid followed the noise and Poe followed him. It was coming from the Palace Sector. As expected. 

They turned the corner and stopped in surprise, just as the drums died down. 

The place was alive with commotion. Mandalorians were everywhere, bustling around, yelling, shouting and eating. The vivid blaze of colours from the various pieces of armour was jarring in the otherwise grey and muted surroundings. 

Poe scanned the crowd, desperate to find someone he recognised. But someone sidled up next to him and BB-8 chirped in greeting. 

“Hello Poe,” said the bright orange from next to him.

“Rusan! Hi.” Poe softened as BB-8 received a little pat from the Mandalorian. “How are you?”

“Better, after last night,” Rusan said softly. 

Poe nodded and placed his hand on Rusan’s shoulder for a moment before gesturing to the mass of people. 

“Have any idea what’s happening here?”

“It’s _Res’tuur_. The sixth day of the month. From what I’ve heard, the warriors use this day to train as a community. Music, dance and food are included too. Anything that makes us Mandalorians... Mandalorian.”

Poe smiled gently. 

“Sounds fun.”

“Hey look,” Rusan said, pointing upwards. “Your partner is on her way.”

Six people were dropping high above, from the ceiling of the dome in a free fall. 

It took a second for Poe to grasp Rusan’s words, that one of them was Avara. 

BB-8 whistled loudly as Poe sucked in a sharp gasp, prepared to yell for help when Rusan grabbed him with a chortle. 

“They’ve got jetpacks on! It’s ok!”

Poe pretty much sagged in relief, muscles slowly loosening from the grip of his fear. But as he continued to watch, the panic started to renew. 

“They’re not stopping!”

Rusan was watching the plummeting group intently. 

“They will.”

And sure enough in the last split second possible, jetpacks ignited. Their freefall slowed from fatal to survivable to landable. 

Avara was the second to touchdown, feet hitting the ground with enough force to make her stumble, but she didn’t fall. The Mando after her wasn’t so lucky, floundering for a moment before staggering onto his chest with an angry yell. Penn landed right after with a sharp bark of laughter at his fallen friend sounding over the roar of the jetpacks.

“I see what they were doing,” Rusan said suddenly, as the last of them landed. “They were seeing who would start their jetpacks at the lowest height. Who’d be the most daring. But I have a feeling that if you fall over,” he continued, pointing to the grumbling Mando who’d just stood up from the ground, “you’re disqualified.”

Avara looked over at them, flicking them a mock two-fingered salute that made Poe smile. 

But she turned away, huddling with the five other Mandalorians as Elin and Leon, the twins, came running out of an adjacent building. Elin was comically waving a holo-imager over his head as he ran towards the group, followed by his brother. They pushed into the side of the huddle and the various coloured helmets dipped as they watched the holo-imager.

“Let’s go see who won then,” Poe mumbled, his alarm finally disappearing.

They walked closer, BB-8 zooming ahead. 

The group of Mandos exploded apart with a wide variety of reactions. The last Mandalorian who’d landed seemed thrilled, jumping back with a whoop before bumping a purple and orange vambrace to Avara’s, who also seemed pleased. She had her hands on her hips as the other four Mandos yelled, arguing furiously.

As Poe and Rusan got closer, shrieks, mixed between Mando’a and Basic could very easily be heard.

“... _laandur baar_ …”

“...because you’re lighter!”

“... _gar sen’tra evaar’la!_ ”

But Avara and the purple Mando just stood there, leaning against each other as they clearly basked in the accusations. 

Avara turned and beckoned Poe and Rusan closer from where they were wavering, hesitant to come closer.

“I guess you figured out what we were doing?” she asked.

“Rusan figured it out before me, which was stupid because I do the exact same thing with my squadron,” Poe replied, scrubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

“You should’ve seen his face. He went white,” cut in Rusan, rather unnecessarily. 

BB-8 beeped in agreement. 

Poe scowled at them as Avara snorted with laughter.

“You should join us sometime,” called Purple to Rusan, before turning to Avara. “We’ll be lurking, you know how Vizsla hates it when we do that. He’ll be on the warpath for the next hour.”

“Right, see you.”

They watched the group quickly disappear into the crowd.

Avara pulled her helmet off then. Her eyes were bright and face flushed with the exhilaration of the drop. She was grinning. The damp hair was on her forehead, making Poe’s fingers itch. Her light blue star was still on her chest plate though the white stripe was gone.

“You won then?”

“Yeah, I tied with Livy, the one in the purple and orange.”

“Do you win anything?”

“Uh, I'd say bragging rights is a pretty decent prize,” she replied smugly.

Poe smirked. 

“That’s true.”

“Yeah, you flyboy would know huh?”

A shout of Rusan’s name from the crowd made them turn. Juna was waving at him.

“I’d better go, I’ll see you two later,” he said quickly, jogging off.

“I think he’s settling in.”

She spoke softly as they watched Rusan melt into the people.

“Yeah. I think so. He’ll be ok.”

They shared a brief smile.

***

Poe and Avara ended up in a group that were circled around two Mandalorians who were currently locked in a fight. 

BB-8 had wandered off somewhere else, exploring the wild scene. 

People were hollering excitedly, shouting encouragement and suggestions at the pair as they tussled. 

Poe watched, marvelling at the sight. Avara stood next to him, occasionally joining in on the yells. He watched her for a second. 

Her eyes were narrowed, blazing as she studied the scuffle. She was standing stiffly, but she was leaning forward onto her toes as if prepared to jump into the fray.

And suddenly the crowd surged in, stampeding forward as the shouting grew louder.

Poe was shoved into the middle and his focus was momentarily snatched away from Avara as the chaos erupted. And he realised he’d missed the ending of the fight because he’d been staring at her. 

He looked around frantically, simultaneously trying to wriggle backwards and find his small friend who’d disappeared in the rowdy mass of people.

Out of nowhere, he felt something grasp the back of his shirt and drag him back out of the people. He let it haul him back and a few seconds later he was staggering out, free of the crowd. He turned to find his saviour, unsurprisingly, Avara.

She was laughing.

“What the…” he gasped out.

“That always happens after a _ki’akaanir_ ,” she replied, still chuckling.

“You Mandalorians are crazy!”

She just nodded, eyes still glowing with laughter.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask. How's your head?”

“Oh, it’s ok,” she said, reaching up to touch where the cut had been. “Still hurts a bit, but it's more or less healed. The bacta was good.”

He was just about to reply when they heard a rumble of a jetpack, causing them to look up. 

Penn dropped from the air above them, landing gracefully. He was looking more content than Poe had ever seen, without the usual surliness. His fingers were tapping out some inaudible beat on his helmet. 

Poe narrowed his eyes at the man, annoyed as Penn swiftly ignored him to turn to Avara.

“ _Val pare par cuun,_ ” he said, tossing her a thin smooth metal cylinder.

She caught it, examining it. Then she looked back up at him and nodded as he took off into the air.

This exchange had not gone unnoticed by people around them, some of whom tossed a few teasing words towards her.

“Are you out of practice, _Alor’ika_?”

“Better get moving, you’re late!”

She just flashed them a few smirks.

“What’s that about?”

“It’s a small tradition,” she sighed, frowning down at the cylinder. It looked like some sort of handle. “We fight. People bet.”

“You and Penn?”

“Yeah.”

He blinked.

“Is that a good idea?”

She smiled down at the metal in her hand without a reply.

***

The dining hall tables had been pushed to the edges, creating a large empty space in the middle, where thin padded mats lined the floor. People shifting around and picking food off dishes that sat around on the shifted tables.

Avara and Penn were in the centre of the room with Din and Paz while Poe watched from the inner edge of a new, bigger crowd. Penn also had a cylinder like the one he’d passed Avara. They’d both taken off their jetpacks and other weapons, like blasters and knives. Even pieces of armour had come off. The place was filled with an excited hum as people chatted and discussed the imminent fight, clearly anticipating the spectacle. Many children were squeezing their way through the crowd to get a spot at the front.

Poe was nibbling at his lip and his foot was tapping restlessly as he watched the two prepare for the fight.

Cara appeared at his side.

“You look nervous.”

“She’s already half injured and we still have a mission.”

She just hummed, amused.

“ _And_ they don’t like each other.”

Cara gave him a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean? They get along.”

This bothered Poe but he kept it off his face, watching Avara stretch an arm.

“Uh, well that’s not what I’ve seen. Or heard.”

“What have you heard?”

“I- I don’t know. Avara said something about them liking each other before something happened. Some history,” he muttered, suddenly uneasy.

Cara pursed her lips, understanding flickering into her face.

Curiosity bloomed in him.

“Do you know what she was talking about?” he asked hesitantly.

She gave him a sharp look and he shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He knew he was breaking Avara’s trust just by asking.

“It’s not my story to tell,” Cara replied levelly after a second.

He studied his boots as he felt her gaze burn into him. 

“I know.”

He’d thought the conversation had ended so Cara’s question a moment later caught him severely off guard.

“Why do you want to know?”

He opened his mouth, but he didn’t have an answer. So he just shook his head and swallowed, avoiding her eyes. 

The problem was that that answered Cara’s question.

And his silent answer burned through his gut like someone had shot him with an emergency flare.

Shit.

The crowd hushed as Din and Paz backed away from the middle, leaving Penn and Avara. They both held their cylinders out to their sides and a pale yellow plasma beam sprouted from both ends, lighting up the nearest faces and helmets. Plasma quarterstaffs. 

But despite the surrounding cheers and clashing of vambraces at the illumination of the two staffs, Poe’s insides were still churning with the remains of his and Cara’s conversation. He glanced quickly at her, out of the corner of his eye. 

She looked unsettled. He didn’t know her well but it was obvious she wasn’t one to lose her composure easily. 

So why did she look as bothered as he was feeling?

Poe tried to watch as the first strikes of the staffs sounded, buzzing with electricity as the beams made contact. 

But he couldn’t. So he turned and moved towards the doors, unable to watch. Unable to face it.

***

He was just stepping out into the open when someone grabbed his arm and jerked him around.

Cara.

“What?” he snapped defensively, seeing her burning eyes.

“You can't do this,” she hissed. 

“Do what?”

She took a step back.

“Do you even know what I’m talking about? Or have you denied it so much that you don’t?”

He glared at her stubbornly, clenching his jaw, but trepidation was creeping up his chest.

She glared at him. 

“Well?”

“I- I don’t know,” he mumbled looking away. Studying the way sunlight was streaming through the dome.

“You’re in love with her,” she said, bluntly.

It made him flinch, prickling under his skin. 

But when he wanted to deny it out loud he realised he couldn’t even convince himself it wasn’t true. How could he convince her?

So he focused on how the sunlight was beaming through the buildings to his right. The dust in the air streaked the light into rays.

“When did you- start thinking about this?”

“I saw it as a possibility yesterday at lunch. When you were upset that she never mentioned the little one. Then I saw you two watching that fight earlier. And you stared at her, rather than watching the fight like everyone else.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

_Idiot_.

There was a chorus of muted clamour from the hall behind them.

“And what is this conversation supposed to gain?” he asked, forcing himself to look back into her eyes.

Cara narrowed her eyes. “You can’t continue this mission of yours.”

“ _What_?”

“You can’t,” she insisted. “I don’t know you, but I know enough to predict you’ll do something stupid because of your feelings. And that’ll put you both in danger.”

“I’m not calling off the mission,” he growled.

“Well, then you’re gonna have to be careful. Really careful.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Yeah? I sure hope you do,” she said with a withering look.

He scowled, looking away. But distress was worming through him.

“Are you going to tell her?”

Cara sighed and rubbed her forehead as more applause and banging sounded from the doors behind them. 

He glanced back through the transparisteel into the hall. He could see the glowing yellow tips of the whirling staffs above the heads of the crowd.

“No. I won’t.”

“I’ll look after her,” promised Poe. 

Cara scoffed. 

“If you think that, you hardly know her. She’s the one that does the protecting. And you know it.”

He knew. Avara had always protected him.

“I- I‘ll stay out of her way. If she doesn’t need to protect me she’ll be in less danger.”

Cara nodded. 

“Keeping yourself out of harm’s way will keep her safer.”

She stepped forward, narrowing her eyes again as she raised a threatening finger.

“I care about her. She’s my kid. Don’t get her hurt.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Transaltions:  
> res'tuur - sixth day  
> laandur baar - [laandur - weak/light] [baar - body]  
> gar sen’tra evaar’la - your new jetpack!!  
> ki’akaanir - scuffle [kih - small] [akaanir - fight]  
> Val pare par cuun - They're waiting for us.  
> Alor'ika - little Leader [alor - leader] ['ika - *dimunitive suffix*]
> 
> Let's be real, Poe already knew how he felt, he was just ignoring it. All the way back in chapter 12. But as humans, we love to ignore things. Don't we?
> 
> Hope everyone is doing well,  
> \- Iye


	24. Flare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 2 on Mandalore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer chapter cause I combined two into one. Enjoy!!

***

Poe went back to his apartment after that and sat on the edge of his bed. BB-8 was still out, wandering around, so he was alone with his thoughts. His fingers threaded through his hair as he leaned his elbows into his knees.

He didn’t have many options. 

He could send a transmission to Leia saying he couldn’t complete the mission. But that would be letting her and the Resistance down. And he’d have to tell Avara why. 

Or, he could continue as planned. But he’d have to be careful. He couldn’t do anything reckless or stupid. 

The problem was, it was in his nature to be reckless. And stupid, he admitted to himself reluctantly. Especially if it involved someone he cared about.

He sighed. Maybe he should take a walk. Get some fresh air. 

And he suddenly remembered the Imperial Academy that Din had mentioned. How they had starfighters stored there. 

If there was anything that cleared his head, it was a flight.

***

It took quite a while to find the Academy. He had to ask several people for directions, and finally, he found himself walking up the steps of the grand building. It had been vandalised with graffiti but left standing. 

Every Imperial symbol in sight either showed burn marks or had been painted over with beautiful, brightly coloured murals depicting Mandalore and it’s people.

It wasn’t hard to locate the hangar. There were two Mandalorian guards standing at the door though, making Poe hesitate. But he continued forward until they told him to halt.

“You’re not authorised to be here, outsider.”

Hearing himself be called ‘outsider’ again was just unpleasant, but the man didn’t sound particularly hostile. Not like Penn had been, at least.

“I know, I just came because Din- uh, _Mand’alor_ told me there were starfighters here. He knows I fly and I don’t think he’d mind if I borrowed one for a short while.”

“Listen up, _burc’ya_ , I-”

But the other guard interrupted him in a low voice.

“ _Kaysh be’Djarin’ika vod,_ ” she muttered. “We may as well comm _Mand’alor_ and get his permission to let the _aruetii_ in.”

The first guard appeared to consider this, and Poe shuffled his feet, trying to look as unthreatening as possible.

“Fine. You,” he barked to Poe, who looked up from the floor, “stay here. Watch him,” he finished to his partner as he walked off into an adjoining room.

“Sorry about him,” the second guard said. “He’s a stickler for the rules.”

Poe just smiled. 

“I’ve had worse,” he replied.

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Has everyone heard about Penn’s welcome?” asked Poe, flushing slightly. “News travels fast here, huh?”

“Everyone gets curious when an outsider comes to stay. Especially if they’re a friend of the _Mand’alor_ ’s daughter.”

“Right,” he scoffed. He could feel his cheeks burning more. “Gossip.”

The other guard appeared. He gave Poe a sharp nod.

“You’re allowed to take a fighter out. But don’t be long.”

“Thank you,” Poe said politely as they opened the door to the hangar. He gave the second guard a friendly nod as he passed.

He stepped into the vast room and grinned, worries melting away as he stared around at the variety of ships. Some had large tarps draped over them.

But it was easy to recognise the shape of an A-wing under a white sheet. He darted to it and ripped the covering off with a puff of dust that stung his eyes. It was an old model, an RZ-1. Like his mother’s.

Poe fondly ran his fingers over the hull as he looked around, recognising more of the fighters stored in the room. 

There was a squad of fighters that Poe recognised as Fang Fighters. He’d heard of them, pretty much exclusively used by Mandalorians. They were impressive. 

Then there was an old Imperial TIE fighter in the far corner too that was tempting. He’d always wanted to fly a TIE. 

There was a loud mechanical creaking and he looked up as the hangar roof began to part, opening from a seam in the middle.

No, he’d fly the A-wing. He needed familiarity right now. So he hauled himself up the side, clambering towards the cockpit where he found the hidden switch that unlocked it. He lowered himself into the pilot’s seat, thrumming with excited energy. Poe needed to be up in the air, free.

His fingers flew over the familiar dashboard, waking the fighter up, grinning as the engine whined in response, the vibrations rippling through him.

The last time he’d been in an A-wing was back home on Yavin. It had been years. 

He was guiding the bird up, through the roof when the comm crackled.

“ _Turn to you right, and you’ll see an opening in the dome. Don’t hit anything on the way._ ”

Poe's reply was just a laugh.

Joy was filling him. He was back in the air. Just him.

He turned right as instructed, instantly seeing the open patch in the dome and sharply pushed the throttle forward, accelerating to a speed that could only be seen as dangerous as he weaved perfectly between the buildings. 

And he shot through the dome with a whoop, pulling up sharply into the sky in a tight spin.

He used to sit on his mother’s lap and cruise around Yavin’s atmosphere in Green Three. His favourite memories from his childhood. 

He’d known, even as a five-year-old, that flying was his calling. He always had this sense of peace in a starfighter cockpit, which was contradictory, as flying was dangerous. Especially in his line of work.

When he flew, the vessel became an extension of him. A part of him. He didn’t know how to explain it, but that’s how it always was.

He pushed forward, tipping the nose of the A-wing down. The sand approached rapidly, but he didn’t let up, eyes narrowing in concentration.

And at the very last second, he dragged the throttle back with a yell and the fighter pulled up. It shuddered as the tail skimmed the sand and he chuckled to himself. That was better than anything Snap could do and he knew it.

His exultance sat warmly in his chest as he manoeuvred easily over Sundari, sometimes dropping or heightening his altitude with a spin or loop for fun. 

It was here, in the air, where he mulled over his situation again.

He couldn’t call off the mission and let everyone down. He had to keep himself in check. Not let his emotions get in the way of the mission.

It was ironic. The last time someone had told him to call the mission off was with Jess, back on D’Qar. When he was sure he didn’t like Avara. 

Sure that he wouldn't get along with her.

And now it was because he liked her. He scoffed to himself, running a hand through his hair. He was ridiculous.

‘ _Liked her?_ ’ 

He sounded like a child. 

Poe was in love with her. It was infuriatingly simple and still so complex. 

And if it _wasn’t_ love, then it was some form of desire, but that seemed wrong. He didn’t just want her, he cared about her too. Loved her.

He swallowed thickly, conflicted as he distractedly searched the horizon in front of him. He was Afraid.

A thump sounded above him, from the other side of the cockpit’s transparisteel and he looked up sharply. A Mandalorian helmet was peeking in above him. 

His thoughts faded to the back of his mind again.

He quickly slowed the A-wing down, keeping it level as a gloved hand gave him a small wave from outside.

It took him a second to recognise the helmet. It was a dark red colour. The twin Avara knew.

Poe smiled. 

“It’s Elin, right?” he asked loudly, even though he knew the boy couldn’t hear.

But Elin must’ve read Poe’s lips because he got a nod in return. He must have a jetpack on. 

Poe watched, eyes flicking repeatedly from where he was going, to the boy clinging onto the hull above him. Elin raised a hand and tilted it from side to side.

Poe grinned and nodded, getting the message.

He carefully began guiding the A-wing into glancing swerves, slowly increasing in speed and vigour to give Elin a challenge. He glanced up every few seconds to make sure the boy was still there. 

After about a minute, a sharp knock sounded. He looked up to see Elin’s hand up again, but still and flat this time. So Poe stopped swerving. 

And two seconds later there was another thump and Poe turned his head in the other direction to see a light green helmet. 

It was the other twin, Leon. He gave Poe a quick thumbs-up in greeting which Poe returned. 

He grinned mischievously, taking the bird higher, brushing the bottom of the cloud layer before deftly flipping over and watching the twins lose their grip. 

They dropped fast, becoming smaller and smaller in Poe’s view. He chuckled and waited a few seconds before pushing forward, letting the ship fall, picking up speed to catch up to the descending boys. He felt the familiar lurch of his stomach at the motion.

Then he cut under them and scooped them back onto the hull, laughing as he heard them scrabbling to get a firm hold of the ship. 

Seconds later, Elin rapped on the cockpit again, before pointing down at something on the sand near the dome. Poe tilted the ship sideways to get a better view. A small crowd had gathered at the base of the dome, evidently watching him fly. An audience.

Poe smiled, almost smugly. He liked an audience when he was flying.

Then there was another urgent knock from Leon and he pointed ahead. A small shadow appeared in front of his trajectory, growing in size rapidly before Poe could avoid it. The Mandalorian landed heavily on the side of his hull, shooting out a grappling line to hold himself in place. 

Penn. 

Poe sighed. 

Why was it always Penn?

The blue Mandalorian gestured at the twins and Poe saw them disappear from his peripheral. 

Then the ship’s comm crackled again as Penn fixed him with what Poe assumed was a glare as he touched the side of his helmet.

“ _Have you been authorised for this flight?_ ”

“Believe it or not, I have,” Poe snapped. 

He jolted the fighter roughly, smirking as Penn lost his balance. But the grappling line kept him in place. 

“ _Stop that!_ ”

Poe’s response was to cut the engine and sit back, crossing his arms to glare at Penn, insolently gleeful as the ground and sky began to spin in and out of his view behind the Mandalorian.

Penn was clearly confused as the A-wing plunged, visor jerking from the back of the ship to Poe as he held on, before shaking his head and releasing his grappling line. 

The second Penn was off, Poe lunged forward to restart the engine, pulling the fighter up with another yell, narrowly avoiding the ground beneath as he’d done millions of times before. 

He was smirking to himself for the rest of his flight. Penn might be the better fighter, but up here in the air? This was Poe’s territory. 

***

He decided to land in front of the group of people who were watching, rather than take the ship straight back to the hangar.

He knew he’d been sufficiently impressive when he opened the cockpit to light cheering. He grinned as he stood up and clambered out. 

But his smile faltered when he spotted Avara. Walking over. To him. With the rest of the crowd following.

And suddenly he remembered her fight with Penn. _Shit_. 

He had no excuse for why he left. He desperately racked his brain, searching, as he jumped down into the sand.

“Did you _really_ switch the engine off in mid-air?”

Poe couldn’t really tell if she was impressed or annoyed as her helmet was on. So he just gave her a wry grin.

“How else would I get Penn off?” he said loudly, raking a hand through his hair smoothly.

There was a light smattering of laughter from the people watching and he grinned wider. 

Someone caught his eye as they shouldered through the crowd. 

Cara.

“I see you’re feeling better!” she called. “I didn’t think flying around like a laser-brain would clear up your headache though.”

Relief sunk through him at the neatly presented excuse. 

He chuckled, shooting her a thankful look. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. Flying always seems to clear my head.”

She gave him a tiny nod, understanding.

“Sorry I missed your fight,” he said to Avara. “Did you win?”

“Obviously.”

“Nice.”

She shifted, tilting her head up to him in a way that he knew she was grinning.

Poe smirked down at her but a gust of wind blew straight into him and he recoiled slightly, squinting at the sand.

Why did he feel like Cara had willed that bit of wind and sand into his face?

“I should take her back,” he said, patting the hull of the A-wing.

Avara nodded and backed away as he hauled himself back up the side and settled into the cockpit.

He was fidgeting restlessly the whole short flight back. 

He’d made up his mind. He would go ahead with the mission. All he needed to do was keep himself in check.

It felt like he’d thought that for the hundredth time that day.

He landed the bird back in the hangar after doing a few loops and rolls amongst the buildings for the benefit of anyone in the streets below.

***

Lunch was back in the hall. Din sat with them this time, but not to eat. That, he did in private. The little one sat on Din’s lap as he was fed small spoonfuls.

Poe watched him, still slightly in awe that the kid was a sixty-seven-year-old force-user.

Earlier when Avara had pulled her helmet off to start eating, Poe had barely been able to hold back a flinch. 

There was a deep red line from the corner of her eye down to her chin. A fresh bruise, and from the shape of it, probably from Penn’s plasma staff. Her helmet had gotten knocked off, she had told him, after noticing his stare.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cara rolled her eyes. 

It was a struggle not to childishly kick her under the table. It was something he’d do to Jess or Snap.

Halfway through the meal, the kid wandered off his father’s lap to scale up Avara’s arm, onto her shoulder. He then began to softly babble into her ear, and Poe wondered if Avara knew what he was saying. She seemed to be nodding as she listened to her brother, before turning to mumble something back. The child’s ears raised happily as she whispered, making Poe smile.

Someone grabbed Poe’s shoulders from behind him, making the mouthful that had been in his mouth disappear down his throat without warning. He coughed as he turned to hear a familiar giggle.

“Naura!” he gasped. “Don’t startle me like that!”

She laughed again, clinging onto his shoulders as she stood up behind him on his bench.

He twisted around, trying to see her. 

“What’s up?”

“Was that you flying?”

“Yeah, you saw me?”

“Only a little bit.”

He was vaguely aware of all the eyes at the table on him.

“Well? What did you think? Do I fly well?”

She giggled again. 

“Uhuh.”

“That’s good to know,” he replied, pretending to look relieved.

“Who’s your friend, Poe?” asked Din from the other side of the table. Poe had never heard him speak so gently before.

“This Naura of Corellia. Naura, this is Din.”

Naura blushed, ducking behind Poe shyly as her leader greeted her.

“Poe, where’s BeeBee-Eight? The others want to play with him.”

He blinked, looking to the side to see a few kids hovering shyly, clearly waiting for Naura. 

That was a good question.

“I don’t know actually,” he said slowly, looking at Avara.

She frowned.

“Last I saw him was after Rusan left us this morning.”

“Your droid is missing?” Din asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Probably not,” supplied Poe, attempting to smoothen the tension. “He ends up wandering around himself sometimes. He’s most likely just exploring the city.”

Din seemed to relax at this, but Avara was still frowning as Poe shared another look with her. Worry was pricking the back of his neck.

“Should I tell the others he’s not here?” Naura queried softly.

“Yeah. If I see him I’ll send him your way.”

“ _Vor'e_ , Poe.”

She jumped off the bench and darted down the hall, her friends following.

He stared at his food for a second before looking up at Avara again. But it wasn’t her eyes he found.

Instead, he met the gaze of her little brother, still perched on her shoulder. He was watching Poe carefully as if he knew something was wrong. And he probably did.

“I- Excuse me, I’m going to go look around for Beebs,” he mumbled abruptly, standing to shift off the bench.

“I’ll come,” Avara instantly said, also moving to get up, settling her brother back on her father.

But he flapped a hand at her, seeing Cara shoot him a sharp look from next to him. 

“No, no, it’s fine. You keep eating.”

“I’m already done eating,” she countered.

Sure enough, her bowl was empty.

Poe blinked. He couldn’t really stop her… could he?

“Uh, ok then.”

***

They backtracked their steps, to where they remembered seeing him last.

If Poe hadn’t been uncomfortable with BB-8’s disappearance before, he was definitely uneasy now, walking alone with Avara. 

He avoided looking at her, attempting to keep her at arm’s length. Instead, he focused on the surroundings, looking for any sign of his little droid.

“You know this place better than me,” he said, quickly glancing over his shoulder at his partner. “And you know Beebs. Is there anything here that would attract his attention?”

“Uh, I don’t know. You know him way better. Why don’t you get into his head, pretend to be him and see things his way?”

Poe snorted.

“What do you want me to do? Curl up on the ground and roll around?”

She sniggered from behind him and he had to stop himself from turning around to smirk at her.

“Ok,” he sighed. “Let me try then.”

What would Beebs be computing in that tiny central processing unit of his?

Well, he’s an astromech. Programmed to fix and repair.

Poe scanned the area around him before turning to Avara with a frown.

“Is there a place here centered around machinery? As in reparation or even production.”

She stilled for a second, thinking.

“No, if people need repairs on something they do it themselves. Most people here have a basic sense of mechanics.”

Poe sighed.

“Oh, wait, hang on. I think…” she said suddenly, pausing. “Yes. Come with me.”

***

It was just behind the palace buildings. A secluded panel in the ground. Avara knelt down to punch in a code and the hatch slid open, revealing a gloomy staircase.

“Uh, I don’t think Beebs would come down here.”

“This place has many entries and exits. He could’ve used any if he was smart enough to slice a door.”

It was a long way down. By the time they reached the bottom, Avara had had to switch her helmet light on to see. The place was dark. 

Only minutes later, Poe had already lost his sense of direction. The place was a maze. But Avara seemed to know exactly where she was going, so he stayed on her heels.

And sure enough, he heard a familiar sound. A soft roar and methodic banging.

Hammering.

“A forge,” he said suddenly, remembering the one on Corellia.

Avara nodded, the beam of her light moving down momentarily.

“But why would Beebs come here?”

“The forge was in need of repairs. I remember hearing Paz and Papa talking about it. Some complications with a component.”

“And you think Beebs might have come down here to help?”

As he said this, Poe noticed that they walked past a yellow lantern fixed on the wall. The first one he’d seen in the darkness of the tunnel. Avara switched her light off.

“Yeah.”

They turned the corner and entered the forge.

It was huge. 

High, rounded ceilings circled with lanterns. A few columns held the ceiling up. But the main source of light was the flaming furnace in the center of the room.

The two Mandalorians standing at the forge looked up, glowing with the blue fire in front of them. The taller one stepped away, coming towards them. And at their feet… was BB-8.

The droid warbled happily and bounced down a step from the furnace, zooming towards Poe who dropped onto a knee.

“Oh, Beebs! Where’d you run off to?” he sighed, splaying a hand on the droid’s dome. “I was worried. You should know better.”

He got an apologetic hum in reply.

“Your droid was very helpful. I don’t know the dialect of binary it speaks, but it was easy to see that it is an intuitive mech droid.”

BB-8 released a low vibrating sound and Poe grinned.

“He’s glad he was of help,” Poe translated, standing back up.

“He fixed the forge then?” Avara asked.

“That he did. You’re Poe Dameron,” the Mandalorian said. She seemed familiar. “I was at Djarin’s place when you came to shave.”

Poe nodded, remembering. 

The golden armour with the horned helmet. The authoritative voice that everyone went quiet to listen to.

“It’s an honour to meet you,” he said politely, ducking his head.

The golden helmet tilted at him before turning away back to the forge. 

He thought they had been dismissed from the room but Avara called out playfully.

“What, no greeting for me?”

“I expected you to come earlier, Djarin’ika. I thought you'd forgotten about me.”

Avara laughed and sauntered in further, closer to the fire.

Poe followed hesitantly. This seemed like a place meant only for Mandalorians.

“Inan! How are you settling in?”

And that’s when Poe recognised the other Mandalorian standing at the kiln. Inan, the young Corellian Armourer.

“I’m doing well! Just glad to be able to finish my training.”

“I’m sure,” replied Avara, evidently pleased.

“Do you have anything to replenish, Djarin’ika?”

“My Whistling Birds,” Avara called back, settling onto a small bench. “And my emitter isn’t working. I was unable to fix it, weeks ago.”

Poe sat down next to his partner to wait. The bench was small, so their shoulders and legs were pressed against each other.

“What are Whistling Birds?” he whispered.

“Remember when we were surrounded by troopers?”

Poe’s eyes widened.

He could remember the noise. The swirling whistles.

He nodded.

***

The Armourer had been incredibly quick, replacing Avara’s Whistling Birds before moving onto the ‘emitter’. When that had been fixed, she showed him. 

A pale blue plasma shield projected out from her left vambrace.

Poe had gasped. He’d never seen this technology on such a small scale before, so perfected like this. The Whistling Birds and this shield emitter were both incredibly advanced.

“So when should we leave?” he asked as they strolled back to the dining hall.

“For Ord Mantell? We could leave tonight,” she suggested.

He pursed his lips for a second before replying. “How about tomorrow morning or afternoon? I’m not gonna lie, I like this place.”

BB-8 yipped in agreement and Avara’s chuckle sputtered through her helmet’s modulator, making Poe smile.

“When we spoke to Leia, you said that those First Order agents might know what you look like. How?”

Poe sighed heavily. He hated this story.

“There’s this guy called Ziff. It started as a joke amongst the other pilots. Some of them would tease me, saying that recruitment would improve if I posed for a poster.”

Avara laughed and Poe had to smile at the sound, albeit reluctantly.

“Well Ziff, one of the pilots, made the poster,” he continued. “And it ended up on the Holonet.”

She snorted. 

“And, did it?”

“Did what?”

“Did it improve recruitment?”

He rolled his eyes, giving her his answer and she laughed again.

“Are there any more festivities scheduled for today?” he inquired.

Their shoulders brushed as they walked and he had to focus on her words to stop his face from flushing at the contact.

“The next big thing happens before dinner. A dance.”

“Dance? I didn’t know Mandalorians danced.”

“You’re on a sharp learning curve, aren’t you?” she retorted.

He laughed.

“I’m almost tempted to join up. You’ve advertised your culture well.”

She huffed, making him grin.

“So, a dance, huh?” he began slowly, glancing at her slyly. “Will you be participating?”

Avara sighed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he crowed as she shouldered him, making him stagger slightly as he laughed again.

He was opening the door to his quarters, feeling leftover flares of warmth in his chest. The warmth of having Avara near him.

And he realised he'd completely forgotten to keep her at arm’s length.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> burc’ya - pal/friend (can be used ironically as it is here)  
> Kaysh be’Djarin’ika vod - He's Young Djarin's partner.  
> aruetii - foreigner/outsider  
> Vor'e - thanks
> 
> This really was a bit of a filler chapter, so sorry about that. The next chapter gets back into things.


	25. Blaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of Day 2 on Mandalore

***

The beat was pulsing in his chest, reverberating throughout the room from the drums that lined the hall.

No one was speaking, all eyes were on the dancers. Some struck out the tempo with their vambraces, knocking wrists together.

This whole day, the sixth day of the month had been filled with energy. _Life_.

_Shereshoy_ , Avara had called it. 

A lust for life. Seizing every moment, every experience, and making it yours. Because as a Mandalorian, lives were often short.

The dancers gleamed and sparkled with the light of the flames that flickered from the torches. They circled and wove around each other, in a pattern only they seemed to see. Others jumped in to join, replacing anyone who swiftly slipped out.

It was graceful, in a way that Poe hadn’t seen from the Mandalorians before. The way they spun and turned and stepped. Even with the armour, their movement was smooth and fluid, unaffected by the beskar. It was part of them.

Children were crouched around the circling dancers. One held an instrument to his lips, fingers slipping over the length to create the notes. The rest were singing in Mando’a. 

_motir ca'tra nau tracinya_

But Poe’s eyes were tracking Avara. 

He could barely see her amid the other dancers, yet he only saw her. He was hypnotised. That was the only way he could describe it.

When he’d lose sight of her, he would search desperately, till her helmet slipped back into view. She was closer to the middle, so all he caught were fleeting glimpses.

But at one point, the dance led her to the edge and his breath caught as she flitted past him, immersed in the rhythm. 

Warmth, _love_ , he realised, blazed intensely in his chest as he watched her disappear back into the center of the swell.

The fierceness of the beat stayed with him long after it had faded. 

***

Afterwards, he found her, Penn and another friend of theirs surrounded by a group of younger children. They were slowly demonstrating the steps of the dance for the children to copy, while other adults fondly watched on.

Naura noticed Poe and rushed to him with her arms up. He scooped her into his arms, grunting slightly at the effort.

“I’m going to learn to dance like them,” she had quipped, eyes glowing as Avara followed her to Poe.

“Well,” replied Poe, gazing directly at Avara, “I think you’ve got the best possible teacher.”

His partner glanced away briefly as her cheeks coloured, nibbling her lip. 

“You liked it then.”

He just nodded, shyly not trusting himself to speak as they just smiled at each other, both unsure of what to say.

“Uh, is dinner going to be served now?” he asked quickly before the silence became awkward.

“In about an hour, the sun is still up.”

He glanced up. She was right. The sky was still bright, though it was darkening on one side.

“You gonna go out and watch the sunset again?”

“I was, actually, but there’s something else I want to do.”

She must have sensed his hesitation.

“You’re welcome to come with me if you like,” she offered gently. “I don’t mind the company.”

His heart lifted but his own words slipped into his head, quashing his first reply.

_Keep yourself in check._

“Uh, no,” he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze for a second. “Thanks though. I just want to get something done with Beebs before the mission.”

She looked at him, for a split second longer than normal. And he knew she had picked out the lie.

But she just nodded, something flickering in her eyes.

“That’s ok. I’ll see you at dinner then.”

***

He ended up not going to dinner.

That night, he dreamed. 

Drums pounding in his chest as he flew in his X-wing. He could see the glint of a silver Mandalorian helmet in an A-wing that glided by, in front of him. The drums turned into high pitched whistles. And all he could do was watch. 

Watch, as the A-wing shattered into millions of pieces. 

He could see twisted pieces of beskar amongst the debris that floated past, shining brightly at him like stars.

He woke up shivering, despite the blanket.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translation:  
> motir ca'tra nau tracinya - those who stand before us, light the night sky in flame
> 
> [That's actually taken from an actual Mandalorian song/war chant called 'Gra'tua Cuun' which means 'Our Vengeance'. The lyrics are pretty brutal actually, (it being a war chant and all) but I love that one line.]
> 
> I posted this quicker cause it's a really short chapter and I get restless to post when I've written ahead.
> 
> love,  
> \- Iye


	26. Glint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Departure from Mandalore.  
> Part 1 of Day 1 on Ord Mantell

***

The next day, they were getting ready to leave. As he gathered his belongings, he realised he still had Avara’s grey scarf. He hadn’t returned it after she lent it to him to keep the sand away.

He stuffed it into the bottom of his bag.

***

“Listen to me, both of you,” said Din.

They were standing outside the _Ember_ , about to depart. The sun was burning down unforgivingly, turning the sand a harsh white. A bead of sweat ran down the back of Poe’s neck.

Cara, Paz, Din, Avara’s little brother and even Penn had followed his father come to see them off. But then Avara had said they used to be best friends. So maybe that's why he was there.

“Ord Mantell is a dangerous place, just as your General said,” he began in a low voice. “Don’t trust anyone, and watch your backs. Always.”

Both Poe and Avara nodded stiffly.

“Everyone is watched in that place. You can’t let your guard down. Keep to yourselves and keep your heads down. And look out for each other,” he finished, gazing at Poe.

Look after _her_ , Din was saying.

Poe nodded again, chest tight.

_She_ was the protector, Cara had said yesterday.

Avara stepped towards Paz and Penn to say goodbye. Paz ruffled her hair affectionately making her duck away from him. Then she and Penn grasped hands with a small nod. Cara wrapped her into a hug for a long second. Then she shuffled over to her father, almost hesitantly.

She pressed her forehead to his helmet, standing on her toes. The customary Mandalorian way to express affection. He remembered seeing Rusan and Darro do it too, touching helmets like that.

Poe found himself looking away, feeling like he was intruding, and shifted towards Cara and Paz. She was squinting in the sun’s glare like him. At least there was no wind spitting sand into his face this time.

“Be safe,” she muttered.

“We will,” he promised.

"Good luck, _Jaro'ika_ ," said Paz.

Poe grinned at his nickname and nodded.

  
  


The child babbled from his father’s arms and they looked over to see a tiny green hand clutching Avara’s finger. 

She smiled sadly, gently extracting it from his small grip and stroked his long ear. He began to wail, wriggling in Din’s arms, shrieking at Avara. Trying to grab her.

Poe could almost feel the waves of distress rippling from the child.

***

She was quiet in the co-pilot seat next to him as he plugged in the coordinates. Even he was feeling low. 

Leaving somewhere safe and comfortable to head into danger? Not fun. 

  
  


It was seven hours to Ord Mantell. Their journey passed mostly in silence due to the subdued moods.

But while they sat together for a meal, they discussed their approach for the mission. 

“You’ll have to stay on the ship as much as possible.”

Poe slumped back in the chair, knowing she was right.

“I hate sitting around and doing nothing,” he groaned.

“You won’t be doing nothing,” she countered. “While I’m out, you can… sleep?”

He gave her a deadpan look and she grinned.

“I really want to see this poster of yours now.”

“It’s not _my_ poster,” he grumbled.

“Bee! Come here!”

Poe began spluttering as BB-8 rolled closer.

“Hey! No-”

“Bee, do you have that poster of Poe that a pilot called Ziff made?” she asked, deaf to Poe’s threats. 

“Beebs don’t, I swear, if you-”

It seemed like BB-8 was also momentarily deaf as he immediately produced the poster, displaying it high in the air with his holoprojector.

Poe pinched the bridge of his nose as Avara began to laugh.

The poster showed him in his flight suit, gazing up into the star-studded sky, surrounded by X-wings.

‘ _WATCHING OVER THE SKIES AND STARS_ ’ it said above his head.

“And that helped recruitment, huh?” she questioned amid her cackles.

He glared at her, trying to keep a grudging smile off his face.

“Anyway, back on topic,” he began loudly. “We were talking about how you’ll be going out?”

She sobered up but her eyes were still glinting.

“Right, yeah. I’ll obviously hit the local cantinas, see what information is there to grab.”

“You’ll stand out in your armour.”

She’d painted over the ice-blue star on her chest plate, accenting it with geometric lines and swirls. It was beautiful. 

But now it was also more noticeable.

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

“What if I came out too, just separate from you. As if we didn’t know each other.”

“There’s still the problem of your face,” she said, humorously pointing at him with her spoon.

“I can use that cloak of yours. The one you made me wear on Corellia. Keep the hood on...”

She looked unconvinced.

“Oh come on," he cajoled. "Not everyone would recognise me."

“After I scope it out first, maybe then,” she said firmly.

He rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not like you could stop me from following you.”

She raised her eyebrows. 

“It wouldn’t be too hard to knock you out and lock you on the ship.”

He stared at her for a second.

“You wouldn’t.”

She chuckled.

“No, probably not.”

“So, Fera and Crul Mignin, was it? We don’t have any images, how are we supposed to find them?” he asked.

“When you keep your ears open in a crowded place, you hear a lot.”

“I suppose so,” he muttered. “Is that your… 'bounty hunter-ness' coming out?”

Avara grinned and nodded through her last mouthful of food.

“Shouldn’t be too hard to pick up a trail about two First Order _murder-twins_.”

“Leia didn’t say they were twins.”

“Yeah, but murder-twins sounds better than murder-siblings.”

He just snorted through a smile at her childishness.

***

The city was huge. The largest building towered over the others from the center of the city, distinguishing itself as a Palace, home of royalty. Smaller blocks expanded outwards, forming the city around the castle. 

Dull blue roofs coloured the scene below Poe as he led the _Ember_ to the landing pad he’d been instructed to.

BB-8 chirped at Poe, entering the cockpit as they touched down.

“Ok, I’ll wake her up.”

Avara was curled up on her side, face pressed into a folded arm. Her pillow lay discarded at her feet.

She looked so small without her armour, sleeping like that.

Poe watched her for a moment, before uncomfortably realising it was sort of creepy.

So he shuffled forward, hesitantly.

“Avara? Hey,” he mumbled, cautiously nudging her shoulder.

The last time he’d woken her was after Naboo, and she had jerked awake at the slightest touch of her shoulder.

She must've been sleeping more deeply this time because it took a few shakes before her eyes flickered open.

“Huh? Poe?”

Her voice was raw with sleep and it lit a hot flame in his gut.

“Yeah, hey. We just landed.”

She blinked owlishly at him before slowly moving to push herself up. He offered her a hand and she instinctively took it. 

Her hands were warm this time. The skin of her palm and fingers was rough compared to his. 

He pulled her up, glad the room was dark enough to hide his flush. 

“We’re in the city?”

“Yeah, the west side.”

He caught sight of something on her left arm as she reached for her cuirass. And he realised he’d never seen the skin past her wrists before. If he had, he would’ve remembered _that_.

Her forearm was covered in black lines and dots.

“Stars,” he said, speaking out loud without meaning to.

“Huh?” she grunted, looking up at his sudden exclamation. She followed his gaze.

“Oh. Yeah. They’re the constellations you can see from Mandalore,” she said, studying her own tattoo for a second.

“I- It looks good,” he supplied, nodding to hide his embarrassment.

She looked amused.

“Yeah, I think so.”

He backed out of the room feeling foolishly hot and bothered.

  
  


Poe walked down the opening ramp with BB-8 behind him. But he froze as he stepped down and hastily back-pedalled, crashing backwards into Avara.

“Poe! What-”

“It’s cold,” he whined. “I don’t have my jacket.”

A dry crackle of static sounded from her helmet. 

“You can’t expect every planet to be warm. Anyway, you stay on the ship. I’ll handle the docking authorities.”

He scowled grumpily as he watched BB-8 follow her outside.

His confinement to the ship had begun.

***

Avara left about twenty minutes later with her rifle slung over her shoulder. 

He had told BB-8 to go with her, but it seemed she had told him to stay on the ship with Poe. He was half annoyed, half thankful that she’d done that.

She was expected to be back in five hours, and they had a commlink to communicate if they needed it.

He hated that she was out alone. He should be there as well, helping, contributing to the mission. But instead, he was stuck.

Poe paced the ship, internally fretting and complaining during the first half-hour before BB-8 dragged his attention to the ship’s starboard thruster. It seemed like there were some modifications they could do to the bank.

So they settled in the mechanical room and got to work with tools littered around. It was tactful of his droid, Beebs knew exactly how to distract him.

Due to the various drives in the room, the air was hot and muggy. What he was used to.

So he yanked his shirt off and relaxed as much as he could with the distraction BB-8 had provided him.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up tomorrow cause this one was short, so be _ready_ ;)
> 
> Here is the link to the poster of Poe:
> 
> [ RESISTANCE ](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/4/49/Yolo_Ziff_Resistance_poster.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/1000?cb=20170306052703)
> 
> The whole story of the poster is actually canon :) Extra fact: Leia actually makes the poster-creator make more after the events of TFA.


	27. Inferno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 1 on Ord Mantell

***

Poe opens his mouth, deepening the kiss. He leans forward, pressing her into the wall. 

Her fingers slip into the curls at the base of his neck and he moans and melts into her. Even more, if that was even possible. The room is so hot, burning.

He wraps his arms around her as heat coils around him and she breaks the kiss to look at him. 

They stare at each other, lips brushing, pupils blown. 

He swallows thickly as he searches her eyes, looking for-

  
  


Beeping. Something is beeping. This distraction pulls him away from her and he opens his eyes, blinking blearily at his surroundings for a second. 

Right. He was slumped against the wall in the boiling mech room. Adjusting the starboard thrusters with his droid.

Who was beeping indignantly. Next to him. _At_ him.

“Yeah, yeah. You continue,” Poe mumbled, pushing himself up hurriedly. “I’ll be back.”

He had something to attend to in the ‘fresher. Something unfortunately prominent. 

He just jumped into the shower. He was hot and sweaty and turned on, so naturally, the shower would be best. 

His brain really had to go and conjure _that_ up. 

He was frustrated and jittery, and annoyingly that didn't change, even after his release. 

When he _knew_ he had to keep her at arm’s length. Just perfect. 

***

There was half an hour left until Avara’s return.

Then ten minutes.

Then two.

And then it was forty minutes later and it was dark outside. And she still wasn’t back. There was no sign of her.

Poe had been holding off on comming her. He was showing brilliant restraint, in his opinion. 

But now she was really late and he just _needed_ to know if she was ok.

“Avara? Avara, come in. It’s been five hours,” he said tensely. “ _Actually_ , it’s been more than five hours.”

Silence.

“Are you alright?”

No reply.

He shared a worried look with BB-8.

“I should go find her,” he muttered hollowly.

  
  


He had no idea where she was. She could be completely fine, at a cantina, talking with someone.

Or she could be lying in some alleyway half dead. Because someone figured out she was with the Resistance.

Poe stiffened at the thought, fear spiking.

Then reason quashed it, calming him a bit.

It was most likely she had just lost track of time. She was just late. He doubted that there were many people in the city willing to fight with a Mandalorian. And even less would actually be a challenge for Avara.

He allowed these thoughts to soothe him.

But Poe got more and more restless the longer she didn’t show up.

So he found himself pulling his shirt and boots on, followed by his jacket. The brown one _without_ the Rebellion symbol obviously.

Then he rifled through Avara’s cabin and found the cloak. 

He was pulling it on, over his head when he crashed into something hard as he tried to walk out through her door.

“Wh- Poe? What are you doing?”

He froze for a second before ripping the cloak back off his head and staring at his partner. He apparently hadn't heard the ship ramp opening.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, the worry in his chest turning to anger within milliseconds. 

She looked down at his boots, then at the cloak he was holding.

“You can’t leave the ship.”

“Yeah? I can! If you’re late and not responding on the comm,” he snarled. 

All his pent up energy was simmering at the surface, prepared to discharge.

“I didn’t get any comm.”

Why was she so calm? Couldn’t she understand that she might’ve compromised the mission if he had to go out and look for her?

“Obviously not,” he snapped, shoving past her.

“Calm down,” she growled. “I wasn’t in danger.”

“Well, how was _I_ supposed to know that? You can’t be late and not reply to my comm!”

“I didn’t get your comm!” she yelled back, raising her voice to match his.

She wrenched her helmet off to glare at him. The bruise from the fight with Penn seemed darker than before, a deep purple stripe across her skin.

Seeing her face, her eyes, just made him more furious.

“Well next time make sure you get it!” he hissed, pushing his face in front of hers fiercely.

This was a mistake. All he could see were the green flecks in her irises. And all he could think about was how he had stared into her eyes in his dream. How her eyes were dark as dream-Avara had looked back at him.

Until he realised that real-Avara’s pupils were blown. Right in front of him. And how they dropped down just for a split second. Down at his lips.

Then she looked back up, and her eyes widened as if she realised what she just did.

And he crashed into her, pressing his lips to hers desperately, wrapping his arms around her waist. A flame that had been smouldering in him for what felt like millions of years suddenly exploded into an inferno.

But he realised she’d frozen under him. So he pulled away. 

Or, was _about_ to pull away, when he felt that her hands begin tugging him closer, gripping his shirt’s collar. Then her fingers wound into his hair, pulling him down to her level, drawing out some kind of whimper from his throat.

But then her palms were in between them, gently pushing on his chest. Pushing him away. So he stepped back, light-headed and confused. He stared at her with his eyebrows drawn together. They were both panting for air.

“I- this isn’t a very good idea,” she whispered.

But she avoided his gaze as she said it and her hands were still on his chest. Lingering.

He blinked.

“I don’t care,” he murmured.

Her eyes met his. They crinkled up warmly with the slightest bit of amusement.

“Yes, you do.”

Poe deflated slightly, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“Ok. I do.” He looked back up. “But I want this.”

Her gaze shifted as she looked between his eyes. 

And sharp unease twisted inside of him when he remembered that he was doing the _exact opposite_ of what he was supposed to. 

But she just nodded. Understanding flickered over her face.

It made him wonder how long she’d been wanting him too. How much time had they wasted?

And she raised herself on her toes as she leaned back against the wall, and tilted her head up as she pulled him down again. He wondered when she'd removed her gloves. Her fingertips were ice.

  
  


Poe doesn’t know how long they were like that when he finally pulled away, rubbing his neck slightly. 

He knew his skin was flushed, and his knees were feeling a bit weak. And he was a bit breathless.

She frowned up at him. It seemed that she was in a similar state to him. Her unbruised cheek was tinged pink and her lips were dark because of his kisses. 

It made his stomach curl.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need to get you a stool or something to stand on,” he grumbled.

She scoffed, an incredulous smirk spreading over her face. 

It made him want to kiss her more.

“It’s not _my_ fault I’m short!”

“It’s not mine either, but I’m the one suffering because of it. My neck is aching ‘cause of your height.”

She shoved him lightly. 

“Rude.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, indulging himself. This was perfect. He didn't care that his neck was hurting.

He grinned as he heard her chuckle against his lips.

There was a familiar chirp from behind him and he broke the kiss to sigh and dump his head onto her shoulder tiredly. She rubbed the back of his neck, her thumb circling into the muscle.

“Go away, Beebs,” he called to the droid.

Avara shook with a repressed chortle, jostling his head slightly.

BB-8 whistled at him with a snobby air of finality before turning and pointedly rolling off.

Poe jerked his head up, eyes wide as he looked from the disappearing droid to Avara.

Her eyebrows were also raised in a mix of shock and amusement.

“Did he just say…”

“‘ _About time_ ’?” Poe finished her question, sharing her astounded expression. “Yeah. Yeah, he just said that.”

They dissolved into laughter at the same time, still clutching each other.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was like ' _you're getting a kiss!_ ' then I was like ' _sike its just a dream_ ' and then I actually gave you a kiss
> 
> Yeah, that went real soft, even I didn't see that coming. That's not how I was originally planning it but it came out like that so there you go. Prepare for soft and fluffy Poe and Avara in the next chapters.
> 
> Also, I finally explored my ao3 page and realised what Statistics are? And damn, now I know there's at least 10 people regularly reading this which is really cool :)) Thanks guys
> 
> And there's another chapter with Avara's POV coming up. Gonna be similar in structure to Chapter 20.
> 
> Feel free to yelp at me in the comments!  
> \- Iye


	28. Radiant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Day 2 on Ord Mantell

***

“So what did you find? Did you hear anything? When you were ‘keeping your ears open’.”

She huffed at his use of her words.

“Nothing too much. There are definitely First Order sympathisers here, but also quite a few who’d prefer to not ever hear the word ‘stormtrooper’ ever again. Their presence is increasing, from what I’ve heard. Someone tried to approach me thinking I was a hunter. The Order was making their dirty business hard and wanted me to help.”

Poe hummed, half distracted.

They were in his bed. He’d managed to convince her to sleep in his room for the night. The bed was sized for only one person so they were tangled up, her head under his chin. 

And he was delightedly running his fingers through her curls. Finally.

“Are you even listening?”

“I’m listening.”

He could feel the puffs of her breath on his skin under his collar bone. It made him smile to himself.

“I spoke with a Twi’lek, a bartend. She said that her brother sees _Xi_ and _Upsilon class_ shuttles landing in the city sometimes. And they’re-”

“First Order shuttles,” he finished, nodding slightly. “So there might be something happening here.”

“ _That_ was always expected,” she muttered.

“Will we go to the same cantina you went to today?”

She pulled her head back and he assumed that she was trying to glare at him through the darkness of the room.

“You’re not coming with me tomorrow.”

It was a struggle to hold back a groan at her statement. He remained disappointingly quiet, hoping his silence would get the point across.

She sighed and tucked her head back under his chin.

It did get across.

“I just need more time to scout this place out. Maybe the day after, you can come. With the cloak,” she added.

“Ok. Just make sure your comm is working in the morning before you leave.”

“Hm, I don’t know,” she said, mockingly thoughtful. “I came back today and it wasn’t working. And things seemed to… work out.”

He raised his eyebrows to himself.

“That comm _will_ be working,” he growled, but he was grinning.

She chuckled.

He felt her press an unexpected, soft kiss to his bare chest and he couldn’t help the involuntary shudder that slipped up his spine.

“Are you cold?”

The question came instantly and he almost laughed.

“No, not really.”

But she sat up anyway.

“Is there a blanket here?”

“You could just lie on top of me, that would be warm enough.”

She snorted. 

“Sounds uncomfortable. Where’s the blanket?”

“Here,” he muttered, dragging it up with his feet.

She shook it out before pulling it over them in one swift movement.

Then he tugged her closer with a hand on her back and she scooted back under his chin, hesitantly placing a hand on his bare waist. He twitched under her touch with a tiny yelp and her hand immediately disappeared.

“Why are your hands always so cold?” he whined.

“I don’t know. Why are yours always warm?”

He searched for her fingers in response, curling his hand around them when he found them to warm the icy finger-tips up.

“Good night, Poe.”

“Sleep well,” he whispered back.

Her breathing was deep and slow just a few minutes later. 

But he was wide awake. 

Avara had been right when she said that _this_ wasn’t a good idea.

And yet… _this_ was so worth it. He’d never have guessed that they’d end up like this.

It was so perfect.

So why was he feeling so nervous?

***

“Testing. Can you hear me?”

He waited for a reply. It didn’t come, so he raised his voice to a yell.

“Avara! Did you hear me?”

She was standing in the cargo-hold while he sat in the kitchen as they tested the comms.

“No!”

Her helmet appeared around the door frame.

“Are you sure your comm is working?”

“Are you sure that _yours_ is?” he countered. “Hang on, didn’t it get damaged in the shipyard on Corellia?”

She paused.

“I fixed it.”

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Did you though?”

She huffed, stalking towards him to sit at the table, pulling the helmet off.

“I fixed it,” she muttered again, stubborn.

He scooted closer, their heads touching as they peered into her helmet. 

He silently revelled in their closeness. 

She reached in and detached a small contraption to examine it.

But instead of looking at the comm component, he stared at her from his close up position, watching the way her eyelashes shifted up and down as she studied the circuit.

“Stop staring,” she whispered.

He just smirked, not bothering to stop.

Something sparked as she pulled a wire and he watched as her nose wrinkled briefly.

“Poe,” Avara said slowly.

“Mhmm?”

“Stop staring.”

“Why?”

Her cheeks were darkening under his gaze, widening his smile.

“I saw you staring at me on Mandalore too,” she muttered.

He blinked in surprise. It was now his turn to blush.

“What? When?”

“When I brought you the cake.”

He searched for an excuse.

“There was a picture on the wall behind you,” he lied.

She looked up, straight into his eyes and he shrunk away, biting his lip.

“Liar. And then you were staring when I was dancing.”

“Well, of _course_ I’m going to watch you dance. I didn’t know any of the other dancers,” he said, trying to sound as if it was obvious.

“Penn was dancing.”

“What, no he wasn’t,” Poe blustered quickly, trying to call a bluff.

“Got you,” she taunted, eyes sparking. “He was. You _really_ think I wouldn’t notice someone blatantly staring at me?”

He scowled at the wall. 

“It wasn’t blatant. Anyway, I'd rather watch _you_ than Penn.”

Avara scoffed. 

“It was _pretty_ blatant. You’re not a very subtle person,” she told him, focusing back on the circuitry. “You don’t hide your emotions, and if you do, you don’t do it _well_.”

“And you do?” he asked quietly, suddenly serious.

“You know I do,” she mumbled after a beat, glancing up at him for a moment.

“You can talk to me, you know. Tell me anything you want,” he said after a minute of silence.

“I know.” 

She pressed into his side for a second.

“Who would you normally go to, to talk? Cara?”

“Yeah, I guess Cara,” she hesitated slightly, “and Penn. When we were younger.”

“And Syra?”

It slipped out before he could stop himself. Idiot.

Avara paused, going completely still for a second and he shifted uneasily, instantly moving to backtrack.

“I- sorry, I know I promised, I wasn’t-”

“She was Penn’s sister.”

His lips parted, apology dying on his lips with the unexpectedness of her statement.

“And, yeah, I’d talk with her too.”

Her eyes were fixed on her helmet and her grip had tightened on the metal she was holding.

“Penn’s sister,” he echoed.

“Yeah.”

“That’s Syra,” he said after a second, tapping her chest plate, “isn’t it?”

She looked down at the painted star on the beskar.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Well,” he said, shifting to a lighter tone and pressing against her, “I think she’s gorgeous.”

Avara rolled her eyes but the corner of her mouth lifted slightly at his ridiculous comment.

“ _Or’dinii_ ,” she muttered.

Poe frowned. He knew that was a Mandalorian insult.

***

Turns out, she’d _not_ fixed her commlink after Corellia. As he’d expected.

  
  


He almost wilted as he watched her leave the ship thirty minutes later. Though at least the comms would be working now.

But it would still be hours till he saw her. And there was no good way to pass the time. He might’ve tried to sleep through the whole day, to skip the time, but he’d had a perfect night's sleep and wasn’t the slightest bit tired.

He wandered back to his room, flopping onto the bunk lazily, letting some sort of giddy smile spread over his face. 

He felt as stupid as some teenager who’d discovered that their crush liked them back. 

It was that same… _sparkly_ feeling.

He felt like an idiot. Jess and Snap would be losing it if they could see him now, and the thought made him groan.

BB-8 chirped at him from the doorway and he lifted his head to glare at the droid.

“Kriff off.”

He got a playfully insolent whir in reply and Beebs darted away before Poe could even think to move.

  
  


He thought about how Avara had opened up. 

Just a bit. But even that little ‘bit’ was progress. He knew she trusted him. 

But he’d be patient. He knew she would talk to him in her own time.

***

Poe was back in the muggy mechanic room, working on the thruster bank again. According to BB-8, it still wasn’t functioning at its proper capabilities.

He was just about to tighten a screw with an electrodriver when something grabbed his shoulder.

He whipped around, adrenaline fried, with the driver ahead of his movement in a stabbing motion.

The attacker jerked back in response, hitting the wall with a clang and gripping his arm before the tip of the driver could pierce them.

For a second they were frozen like that. Just staring at each other, one hand clenched tightly around his wrist with his eyes wide and muscles stiff with alarm.

Then he released the air in his lungs along with the driver. It clattered to the floor as he stepped back away from Avara, gasping.

“That was good,” she said, sounding… _pleased_?

“What the hell,” he snarled. “I could’ve hurt you!”

“No. I’m pretty quick.”

But his chest was heaving with the rush. He raked a trembling hand through his hair furiously, closing his eyes for a second.

“Don’t do that again!”

“Poe,” she said, almost chuckling. “You won’t hurt me.”

“But what if I did?” he snapped. “What if I had?”

“Hey, _hey_ ,” she said soothingly, removing her helmet. “Ok, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She pulled his arm and he resisted for a moment before letting her drag him into a hug. He shifted uncomfortably as his bare chest pressed against the cold beskar.

Her fingers ran up and down his back, calming him.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t realise you’d react so strongly.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he muttered, putting his chin on her head. 

“I know. But you gotta trust my skills too. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried, you know?”

“Well, I don’t want to take that chance.”

He felt her nod.

“You’re shaking,” she said after a second of silence.

“Yeah, you scared me. What do you expect?”

She laughed softly and he felt the last of his tension melt away.

“Come on, I brought food.”

  
  


“Why did you come back early?” he asked through a full mouthful of some grilled meat she’d brought.

Avara was about to reply when he glanced down at her plate.

“And how do you always eat so fast? I thought _I_ was a fast eater.”

She grinned after swallowing her last bite.

“Old habit. Anyway, I heard something. There was an Order lieutenant at the cantina today.”

His eyebrows flicked up and he leaned forward. “An official? In uniform and everything?”

“Yeah. He got some sharp looks, but no one started a fight or anything. Which just affirms that-”

“That the First Order is pretty comfortable here,” he finished, nodding slowly.

“Exactly. He wasn’t there to meet anyone, just there for a drink. So I left soon after he did and followed him deeper into the city.”

“Should’ve commed me,” he said, frowning.

“That’s the thing,” she replied, pursing her lips. “I did.”

“But… that would mean-”

“They’re jamming frequencies from that sector of the city.”

He leaned back in his chair.

“Shit.”

BB-8 hummed. He’d been listening.

“That’s right,” Poe muttered. “They could even be monitoring.”

“Could be. Eat up,” she said as she rose to wash her plate. “Your food is getting cold.”

He blinked down at his meal thoughtfully. 

“Right. Is there a chance anyone saw you following this guy?” he asked as he raised a spoonful to his mouth.

“Chance? Yes. But not likely.”

“This is gonna be a problem,” he mumbled with a full mouth. “We have to find some way of communicating. Or, I’m going out with you.”

She gave him a sharp look as she dried her cutlery.

“Hey, come on! Haven’t you done enough ‘ _scouting_ ’?” he said irritably.

“Poe, there was a full FO official! Tomorrow it could be a whole group. And all it would take is _one_ of them to think that you look familiar.” She huffed, shaking her head. “There’s no way you’re coming with me.”

He clenched his jaw, glaring at the table mutinously.

“And don’t even _think_ about following me.”

He’d said this as a joke the previous day. But now? He was actually considering it. 

What sort of partner would he be, if he let her go out into a potentially dangerous place with no way of contacting him for help?

“ _Don’t_ ,” she snapped again, as if she could see what he was thinking.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see BB-8’s head swivelling back and forth between them.

“I’ll ask Jevi about the blocked comms tomorrow,” she said, still looking at him suspiciously.

“Jevi?”

“The Twi’lek I spoke to yesterday.”

He nodded, remembering.

“You think you can trust her?”

“I believe so. Rylothians don’t like the idea of another Empire any less than we do.”

“That’s true.”

***

“I don’t really want to do this,” he grumbled.

Seeing the bruised skin on her face made him even more reluctant.

But she grinned brightly. Even the last time they did this, she’d been _radiant_ with her excited energy. But then fighting was a part of her, so he couldn’t be surprised.

“What you did earlier, that was good. I didn’t see it coming, took me by surprise.”

“You mean when I almost _stabbed_ you?”

“Yeah.”

He rolled his eyes.

They were standing in the cargo hold, facing each other.

“The last time we tried this, it didn’t really work out.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t really think we have to worry about _tension_ anymore.”

“Why? Because we’re…”

Avara raised her eyebrows in mock interest as he trailed off to search for the right word.

“We’re… not boyfriend and girlfriend, that doesn’t suit us. Not really. Friends, well, we're kinda more than friends now. Partners… _eh_. Being partners is our job. Lovers… well, we haven’t had sex.”

He watched her flush slightly.

“Yet,” he added, just to see her face get darker.

“Ok, ok. Enough. Let’s get to it,” she mumbled.

“Sex?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Poe,” she snapped as he smirked. 

“I want you to beat me in a spar,” she continued, insistently trying to get him back on topic.

“I already did,” he countered. “Remember?”

“You tricked me. That was cheating.”

“Uh, _no_. That was smart.”

He knew at this point she was just getting annoyed.

“I used your-”

The next sound out of his mouth should’ve been a word, but it was a grunt instead.

She’d forcefully pushed a palm into him, under his sternum, interrupting his breathing for a second and making him double over.

He looked up incredulously, gasping.

“You gonna keep talking? Or should we actually fight?” she goaded.

Poe glared at her.

***

He’d tried taking his shirt off, thinking it might sidetrack her.

But that didn’t work. 

It’s not that he was a bad fighter. He could hold his own against many of the infantrymen on D’Qar when they trained. But he was no match for Avara.

After the eighteenth time he found himself on the floor, he just stayed down, not bothering to move. She taunted and pleaded, trying to persuade him to stand back up. But he remained where he was, glaring up at her.

“You’re getting better, you know,” she consoled as she finally sat down next to his limp frame.

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“You’re a fast learner,” she said as she brushed a hand through his hair distractedly.

He smiled at the praise.

“You’ll get me someday.”

That just made him laugh disbelievingly.

“You will! If you keep practising.”

He gazed up at her as she smiled down at him. Her eyes were soft as she watched him, crinkled at the corners slightly. 

“Come here,” he muttered suddenly, reaching for her as he remembered he could kiss her now. 

She laughed as he dragged her down into his chest. 

***

She went out again, after the sparring, much to Poe’s frustration. Back into the middle of the city where the comms wouldn’t work. 

He really was considering following her tomorrow. But she would be furious if she discovered him. And chances of that were high.

And for the first time that day, he remembered Cara. Anxiety expanded in him. 

He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. This was dangerous. And what he was thinking of doing, following her, was reckless. He knew it was, so why did it seem like such a good idea?

Poe shook his head to himself with a resigned sigh. 

He couldn’t follow her. He just had to let her do it herself. He had to trust her skills, as she’d said. 

He ground his palms into his eyes with a tired groan as he sat in the cockpit, waiting for Avara to get back. 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some slight action in the next chapter, I know this one was a bit slow. Sorry about that.
> 
> I think I'll make Chapter 30 the next 'Avara's POV' chapter. And that'll be a longer one so feel free to look forward to it 
> 
> Anyway, hope everyone is well! Let me know what you're thinking, drop a comment :) Suggestions, questions, all that is welcome.  
> \- Iye


	29. Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Day 5 on Ord Mantell

***

Now that they were, well, _together_ in some way, Poe just couldn’t keep himself off of her. He just had to be near her, always in contact. He was constantly wrapping his long arms around her, leaning on her whenever he wanted. 

Which was almost _all_ the time. 

But it was always him initiating it. Rarely her, he realised after a while. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t like him flopping into her, he could see her smile whenever he did. She would also lean into him. 

But it bothered him a bit. 

The only times she touched him was really just to play with his hair. Which he absolutely loved. He loved the way she’d comb her fingers through. It could put him to sleep, honestly. 

But he could tell she was hesitant to do anything more.

***

His eyes flickered open. It was as if he automatically knew something was wrong. 

Then he felt her twitch against him. 

“Beebs,” he hissed at the charging droid in the corner of his room. Instantly his lense glowed at Poe through the darkness. 

“Turn the lights on. But dimly.”

They came on and Poe leaned over Avara.

She was dreaming. Or more likely having a nightmare. 

Her face was pale with a sheen of sweat and her breathing was too fast for normal sleep.

Poe watched her, feeling helpless. 

He remembered his mother settling him on her lap when he was young, explaining how he should never wake his father up if it looked like he was dreaming, because it would startle him and make him panic. 

But he hated seeing her like this. He knew she was suffering. 

So he began to stroke her hair gently as he watched her, looking for any signs that the dream was ending.

His shoulder started aching from the way he was propping himself up but he kept himself there, refusing to lie back down until she was better. 

And finally, minutes later, he realised her breathing was slowing. She was relaxing. So Poe lowered himself back down, carefully curling around her again. 

“Lights, Beebs. Thanks,” he whispered as they switched off. 

He matched his breathing to hers and slowly disappeared back into sleep.

***

He barely had anything to do. He was bored. Really bored.

This day had passed much like the previous two days. She was out, and he was on the ship.

He hadn’t followed her at all because he knew it wouldn’t help. As much as he worried.

He’d made BB-8 go with her yesterday and then again, today. 

Beebs had saved his life before. Several times. So he knew that he’d look out for Avara too, whenever Poe wasn’t there.

But this meant that he was now utterly alone during the day.

  
  


He was just finishing up with the last strokes of his knife, shaving his face when he heard the groan of hydraulics from the lower deck. The ramp was opening.

He quickly washed his face off and slipped out of the ‘fresher to greet Avara, a smile spreading onto his face.

However, it was only BB-8 barrelling up the ramp. The lack of his partner drained him of whatever delight he’d been feeling, leaving some low fear in his gut.

The droid shrieked at him urgently.

He grabbed his jacket, blaster and cloak, and sprinted through the city, chasing after his droid. The icy cold air bit into his skin as he kicked up mud behind him in his haste.

  
  


She had her long rifle in her hands but wasn’t shooting it. She was using it as a short staff.

He saw her jam the butt of the gun sharply into one of the attackers and he crumpled on the ground. 

But two others replaced him and Poe could see Avara backing away as they advanced.

Behind her, between her and Poe, one got up from the ground and Avara’s head turned slightly as she heard him stand.

Poe pulled his blaster out and skidded to a halt. He was far but he knew he could make the shot.

He took a breath in and exhaled, squeezing the trigger. 

The blaster bolt whizzed past Avara and found its mark in a leg. The assailant yelled in pain and collapsed as the others jumped in alarm.

He saw the man closest to him rip out his own blaster and Poe had to jerk sideways to narrowly avoid a bolt and his shoulder crashed into the wall next to him. 

He was about to shoot back but the man fell to his knees as electricity sparked around him. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Avara had tased him with something.

Poe ran forward as the last man backed away from Avara and fled. He reached her just as the attacker disappeared from sight.

“Are you ok?” he gasped, grabbing her arm.

“Fine,” she grunted.

Her armour was covered with mud. She must’ve hit the ground at some point.

“Get back to the ship,” she said, forcefully shoving him away. “I need to make sure they won’t follow us.”

Some of the men lying on the ground were stirring.

“Go! The danger is over,” she snapped with one final push. “Bee, take him back!”

He stood there for a second, stubbornly glaring at her back before BB-8 beeped at him urgently.

He turned and jogged after his droid, glancing over his shoulder.

***

He paced the ship, waiting for the sound that told him the ramp was opening.

“Did she get hurt? Was she hurt?” he asked his droid insistently.

He got a whir in reply and he shook his head furiously.

“What do you mean ‘ _you don’t know_ ’?” he snarled.

There was a whine of machinery and he ran to the ramp to see Avara walking up.

“Please don’t tell me to leave like that again,” he snapped as he darted to her. "You need to stop doing th-"

He grabbed her arms and the anger disappeared almost instantly as he felt her lean against him heavily.

His blood ran cold. 

Then her knees buckled and all he could do was try to soften her landing.

“Get the med-kit!” he cried to the droid behind him. “Avara, where are you hurt?”

“Knifed,” she muttered. “Waist. Need to stop the blood.”

His hand found her bloody one pressed to her side, and he slipped under her arm to manoeuvre her to the closest wall. 

Her groan crackled through the helmet as they moved, but it was a short distance and he settled her back down quickly.

He was stiff, clenching his jaw as he carefully peeled their hands away from the wound. 

It was a gash, small but apparently deep as it was steadily oozing blood. He pressed a hand back on and there was a small thunk as Avara’s head tilted backwards and hit the wall.

“Avara? You still with me?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, sounding strained.

“Beebs, pass me a bottle of bacta, there should be one at the bottom of the pack. Hey,” he added to her, gently cupping the side of her helmet. His hand was shaking.

He searched her visor as if it would tell him what was on her face.

“Just don’t pass out on me, yeah? Just stay.”

“Easier said than done.”

“That bandage, come here and hold it there, where I’m pointing,” he said to BB-8 quickly. “Avara, this is going to hurt. This bacta is strong.”

She lifted her head off the wall to look down at the bottle he was holding.

“Might pass out.”

“Try not to,” Poe whispered. “Please.”

He slowly trickled the liquid down, onto her injury. She jolted under him and he could hear breaths coming in short bursts of static. Poe was almost glad he couldn’t see her face.

He had to almost distance himself, focusing on the good the bacta would do for the future, rather than the agony it was causing her right now. 

It was hard. He kept wincing every time she made a sound, flinching when she did. 

“Beebs, another roll.”

The droid quickly handed him more bandages and he deftly began to unwind them around her waist, pinning the bacta soaked wad in place. And the second it was done and tied, he dropped everything and scooted closer. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her gently into his chest, holding her there.

“I’ve got you, you’re alright.”

She was trembling, her whole back stiff and rippling with shudders brought on by the pain.

“Just breathe and it’ll settle. Just breathe,” he murmured. 

It wasn’t until he was listening to _her_ breathing that he realised his own was just as fast and panicked as hers. 

So he also took a few large, deep breaths, calming his racing heart.

It would’ve been a couple of minutes later when he opened his eyes. 

“Avara?”

Her breaths were slower now.

“Do you think you can move? We should get you into bed. You can’t really sleep here.”

Her helmet nodded slowly and he shifted onto his knees, once again sliding under her arm.

“Ready?”

She nodded again and he lifted with a groan, pushing himself to his feet while pulling her weight. She was gasping again, but standing up was the worst of it.

“Ok, walk with me. Slow.”

He got to her bed without any trouble. After quickly washing his hands in the ‘fresher, he rushed back to her.

Seeing the red swirling down the sink had made Poe take a slow, shaky breath, staring at himself in the mirror. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was just as pale as her.

Seeing her hurt had unbalanced him, thrown him off.

She was right where he left her, sitting up on the edge of her bed. He sat next to her and carefully lifted her helmet off.

He’d been right, unsurprisingly. She was white with blood loss. The skin under her eyes was dark and her forehead was glistening with sweat.

Her lip was bloody and he wondered if she’d bit it while he was putting the bacta on. He gingerly dabbed at it with the damp towel he’d brought.

“Are you ok?”

His hand stilled as he was wiping her face.

It was the dumbest question she could’ve asked.

“ _Me_?”

“You almost got hit,” she said defensively.

“Keyword being ‘ _almost_ ’,” he growled. “How do you remove this?” he asked, tapping her chest plate.

“Buckles at the side and on my shoulders.”

His fingers worked on undoing the straps on her shoulders as she did the sides. Then he pulled it up, sliding the muddy cuirass off over her head. 

“Do you need to change? Your clothes will be bloody.”

“Yeah.”

She moved to stand and instantly he grabbed her.

“Stay still,” he snapped. “You’re not walking anywhere by yourself for the next few days. You can tell me where the clothes are. _I’ll_ get them.”

Avara sighed.

“In the wardrobe,” she said, pointing to the highest drawer.

He yanked some clean clothes out of the drawer. Then he hesitated.

“You’ll need help… right?”

“I- I think so,” she muttered, looking annoyed for a second. She was avoiding his eyes. 

So he helped her carefully pull her shirt off. He kept his eyes lowered as much as possible, but he’d caught a glimpse of her stomach and he remembered something she’d told him on Naboo.

She’d been shot before, twice. He saw the scar under her ribs. 

A pale, circular patch. The skin was rippled showing that it hadn’t healed perfectly. 

He knew there was another one higher on her chest as well. 

Her upper arms were also littered with scars. These ones were mostly lines. Cuts and slashes. Some were jagged, others perfectly straight. Some had healed well, others not.

He knew that as a Mandalorian her life was dangerous. But _seeing_ the evidence on her skin? 

It made him angry and scared. It made it more real. 

He hoped that she wouldn’t receive any more for the rest of her life. What she already had? That was enough. Enough to last her a lifetime. Enough to last her till old age. 

And fear intoxicated him like a thick smoke as he wondered if she would even make it that far. 

Mandalorians were dangerous. But it was almost as dangerous just to be one, he realised. 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love writing 'patching up after getting hurt' a lot :) I reckon that's pretty easy to figure out by now.
> 
> Holidays will be starting for me after next week which means I'll probably be writing even more/faster even though I'm supposed to be studying. I'm a massive procrastinator :/
> 
> Let me know what you're thinking in the comments! I always like to hear from the people lol  
> \- Iye


	30. From Avara  I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avara's POV throughout chapters 21 - 29

✦✦✦

✦ **Stars** ✦

Avara was fiddling with some more of her scrap metal. It glinted sharply as she twisted and shaped it, reminding her of the lowering sun. There were surprisingly no clouds that day, which was rare for Mandalore. The sky was a beautiful deep orange in front of her.

She didn’t know what she wanted to make with the metal in her hands. She glanced up. Still no stars. It was the stars she was waiting for.

Sounds of scuffing sand made her turn. Poe was walking towards her. 

Instantly her nerves increased and she shifted uneasily. Earlier he’d been upset that she hadn’t told him about her brother.

He was clearly uncomfortable. He was walking stiffly and his face was lowered against the wind. He was cold.

The idiot hadn’t brought his jacket.

She stood and offered him her scarf to help keep the sand away. He seemed to be in a much better mood than before thankfully.

He told her that Penn had brought him here and she stiffened angrily. But it dissolved as he grinned at her, amused.

His skin was bright, glowing in the sun. Even his eyes were shining a dark gold.

He'd met her brother, he told her. He’d gone to her place and her brother had apparently floated an X-wing to Poe. An X-wing she’d made with twisted scrap metal, like what she had just been fiddling with.

It seemed like they’d both had the same idea of apologising. It was exactly the same. They interrupted each other the day they met too, for the same reason. Also trying to apologise.

Cara had apparently explained the situation to him at lunch. He knew why she hadn’t mentioned her brother before and he was accepting of it. He understood, and it relaxed her. She didn't have to explain herself.

He told her about the Force. She hadn’t heard it this way before. It wasn’t some power that people had, it was energy. Energy that was everywhere. And some could harness it, the way the _Jetiise_ did.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked her about Penn. She saw something flicker in his eyes as he looked away briefly. 

Penn and Avara. They were friends. Back then at least.

The first day she’d met him, she’d punched him real hard. 

It was the day she’d stowed away on the _Razor Crest_ and ended up on Mandalore. Penn had been rude, saying something cruel, either about her or to her. 

And she did what she knew she could, and flung a fist at the boy.

Then she had backed away fast, panicked because another Mandalorian was striding towards them. A man in blue armour. Penn’s father. Fear put her on edge and she was on her toes, prepared to run.

She expected to be struck in punishment. After all, that was normal for her on Nevarro.

But Paz had only laughed as he helped the bloody-nosed Penn stand up.

And she received her nickname. The first one she ever got. 

Then slowly, she became friends with another girl. Syra. She’d never had a friend before.

Sure, there were other kids on Nevarro, but they were all trying to survive. And survival was hard if you helped someone else. You couldn't really afford to care for another.

So Syra was her first friend. And Penn happened to be Syra’s brother. So by the time they swore the creed, the three of them had become inseparable.

She didn’t tell Poe all this. She just said they’d been friends. And then fell out. Which was a far oversimplification. But she didn’t like talking about it. Or thinking about it. It was just easier not to.

He picked up that someone had died. That much was obvious to him. 

He told her how he was usually a catastrophe at funerals, making her smile a bit. Even she hated funerals. Pity that they had one to go to after dinner. She would’ve prefered to stay out here and just watch the stars the whole night.

Poe shivered violently next to her. But he was frustratingly stubborn. He desperately wanted to remain outside. She guessed he liked talking like this. She did too if truth be told. 

It was honest, the way they talked like this. And honesty meant trust, which put her more at ease when she was with him.

She got the idea to wrap the mat she was sitting on around him. But he wouldn’t get up because he thought she was gonna force him back inside.

He suddenly tried changing the subject, telling her the nickname Paz had decided on giving him. She laughed. It suited him.

Finally, he got up after a threat and she wrapped him up tightly. It was cute, seeing him bundled up in the mat with her scarf around his neck.

Then he offered to share the mat with her. She wasn’t cold. She knew he just wanted her close and was also being considerate. 

It was just some instinct that caused her to glare at him, telling him to back off.

But after a moment, she realised that she _did_ want to slip under the mat with him.

So she did.

His eyes brightened as she scooted in.

Then he asked her about the stars who were finally out as the sun had disappeared. And her throat thickened, but she named them for him. 

She named them, knowing what he'd ask. She was ready for it. The bright blue star, directly overhead. It was the star that Syra had been named after. 

She didn’t even have to look at where he was pointing.

She’d been ready, but it hit her in the gut anyway. The two circular scars on her torso seemed to burn as if they were as fresh as the day she got them.

Poe felt it, she knew. He went quiet and still.

Then he called her by her last name and her limit had been hit. She was tired of him calling her Deccol.

He squirmed slightly as she told him to say Avara.

Finally.

He apologised, for no reason. He hadn’t known what that star meant. But she couldn’t meet his eyes.

He promised to stay clear of her past, and relief bloomed slightly in her chest.

Later at the funeral, her cheeks tingled under her helmet as Poe used her first name for the first time.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Ceremonial** ✦

It was hard but she wanted to do it. 

She was sitting in her room with a small container next to her on the floor. A pot of paint. She knew Papa also had one, a white pot. He’d be painting his white stripe down the side of his helmet right now, highlighting his position as a member of Mandalore’s ruling council. 

She’d get the white pot after he was done. Right now, she had a light blue pot. For her star.

Avara hadn’t worn the star as her _aliik_ for a long time. It had been ages since she’d been required to be in Ceremonial. But slowly, carefully, she painted it on.

Her father appeared at her door as she finished. When she looked up, his eyes were watching her, warm. He came over and curled his arms around her with a kiss to her forehead. 

They stood there for a while, not moving.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Freefall** ✦

It had been so long since they’d done this. 

Livy, Penn, Kaven, Omar and Evie were climbing on the inside of the dome structure. Avara was with them, energy thrumming through her as they scaled the beams. 

An old game of theirs. Trying to see who was bravest. Or stupidest, depending on if you got hurt.

Bones had been broken before, because of this. 

But they didn’t care, hooting as they let go, one by one. Elin and Leon were below, ready with an imager to make sure they could see a clear winner. They would argue otherwise.

As she dropped, she watched the ground and people get bigger. It seemed to happen in slow motion. Somehow, she managed to pick out Poe’s brown jacket and mop of black hair below.

But her focus was rightfully distracted with the timing of her jetpack ignition. Especially since it was a new jetpack, she had to be precise.

At the last possible second, she twisted and her pack flamed up, slowing her dramatically. She hit the ground heavily but managed to keep her balance. As she glanced over her shoulder to see the others, she saw Kaven fall over, making her and Penn laugh.

They shared a look. 

And for the first time in a while, she could tell that Penn was smiling at her as their visors locked.

She turned away and saw Poe and Bee with Rusan. She flicked out a quick salute, spurred by the adrenaline rush still coursing through her, before turning to see the holograph Elin had captured.

It was a clear win, a tie with her and Livy. They laughed triumphantly, nudging each other as the others yelped crabbily, looking for excuses.

Poe and Rusan were clearly waiting for her to be done, hovering a few meters away. So she jerked her head, calling them over.

Rusan tells Avara that Poe got scared when he saw her falling and she couldn’t help but laugh as Poe blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

Livy is kind then, extending a gentle invite to Rusan, as a new friend, before the group disappeared. 

Then Rusan slipped away to Juna, leaving her and Poe alone.

They watched the orange Mandalorian blend into the crowd and both felt the same relief, glad that he seemed to be doing alright. He would be ok.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Fight** ✦

They were going over the rules as if Penn and Avara didn’t already know them. The fight stayed in the hall, and usage of vambrace tech wasn’t allowed. And the fight would end when one of them reached two wins. That was it.

They’d both removed their pauldrons and thigh pads. Being lighter meant being faster. As she was much smaller, speed was her advantage whereas for Penn it was strength. 

Strikes from Penn’s staff were detrimental. He won a fight once, purely because of a sharp hit she’d been too slow to block. It had slammed into her gut, making standing a struggle after that.

Turns out, he’d ended up breaking one of her lower ribs. After that, they made sure to pull their strikes.

Ever since they were young, both of them were furiously competitive. But it became extremely obvious to the people around that their determination to win would drastically spike when they were pitted against each other. 

That, and the fact their skills were so evenly matched, made their spars a spectacle. People loved to watch, as they’d be unable to accurately predict who would win. 

So, naturally, that’s how the betting started. Which turned it into a tradition.

Before the fight started, she caught a glimpse of Poe and Cara talking. They didn’t look too happy.

But Avara had no time to wonder why as she and Penn lunged at each other, staffs swirling yellow and crackling when they touched.

It was fast, as usual. 

She hadn’t had time to practice with a staff any time in the last couple months so she was pleasantly surprised when the tip of her plasma beam ended up under Penn’s chin. The audience roared with approval as they backed away, readying themselves for round two.

Penn’s loss had sharpened his focus and she could feel it in the way she had to back away from his ruthless offensive. 

His staff swung towards her head and she leaned backwards, ducking under. Not fast enough. 

The tip caught the bottom of her helmet, flicking it neatly off her head.

And before he could stop himself, the other side of his staff snapped against the side of her face with force, sending her staggering sideways.

To her credit, she didn’t fall. 

But the pain for those first few moments was blinding.

The crowd hushed, some crying out. They waited, on edge, for her to lift her staff back into a fighting stance. If she didn’t, Penn would take the point.

So she lifted her staff up, trying to focus her blurry vision back on Penn as the crowd yelled appreciatively. He’d removed his helmet too, because her’s was off.

He got that point anyway. But at least it wasn’t because she had given it to him easy.

Now they had a point each and the crowd was bursting with anticipation. The next point would declare a winner.

The second Penn raised his guard to protect his chest, she knew she won. Even some of the audience spotted it with their keen sense of fighting, yelling out in excitement.

Her staff swung behind his knees and then the tip was forcing him down at his throat as he stumbled.

The crowd exploded and she grinned happily, moving to pull Penn back to his feet. He looked annoyed, but there was that grudging smile tugging the corner of his lips. 

He’d always been a good loser. It was one of the few things he could hold over her.

They gave each other a small nod. And she knew, that at least for that day, things were ok between them, despite the hostility during the previous night.

Then she turned away to receive the pats on her shoulders from the various people who had just won some credits.

Poe wasn’t there. She frowned as she looked around.

Her father appeared behind her, answering her question without needing her to ask it.

Poe had left just as the fight had started, he told her. Cara had followed him right after.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Headache** ✦

Cara was standing outside. Her arms were folded and she was frowning at rays of sunlight streaming through the dome.

“Cara.”

She turned.

“Hey, what happened? Where’s Poe?”

But the woman seemed to ignore her, choosing to examine Avara’s face. There was probably a red stripe down the side of her face, thanks to Penn’s hit.

“Penn got you good, huh? You win?”

She was smirking but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

Something was wrong.

“I won. Where’s Poe?” 

The smile dropped off Cara’s face. 

Something was definitely wrong.

“He had a headache, wasn’t feeling well. I suggested he go and rest.”

Cara was lying. 

“What’s wrong? Is he sick? Should I go check on him?”

“No, no, he’s probably just going to sleep.”

Avara stared at her carefully.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Cara sighed. 

“Ava-” she began, and Avara knew she was trying to avoid it.

“Tell me,” she snapped before Cara could weasel out of it. “Stop hiding.”

The woman groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then she looked up, unwaveringly staring into Avara.

“You can’t fall in love with him.”

The statement made her flinch.

“What?”

“You heard me. I can see it. You hide it, but I know you. You like him.”

“Of course I like him,” Avara said, violently caught off guard. “He’s my partner, we’re friends.” She stepped forward, suddenly afraid as Cara gave her a ‘ _really?_ ’ look.

“What did you say to him?”

“I didn’t say anything to him. He wasn’t feeling well, that’s all.”

“So where did _this_ come from?” Avara snapped, gesturing between them roughly.

“I- nowhere. It’s just been bothering me. I know you’re falling for him. And don’t try denying it,” Cara said sharply as Avara opened her mouth. “Being in love with someone who you’re trying to complete a mission with, doesn’t work out. I think you know this already.”

The last sentence lashed against her, sharper than Penn’s staff.

She clenched her fists.

“I’m not _in love_ with him,” she growled through gritted teeth.

Cara raised her eyebrow slightly.

“I’m not attacking you, Ava. You _know_ I’m trying to keep you from hurting.”

“I know. But I don’t need to hear it.”

Cara just groaned.

“More like you don’t want to. Stop being so _stubborn_.”

Avara wondered how many times she’d heard those words before. Probably millions. The thought put a small smirk on her face and Cara glared at her.

“I’ll keep it in mind, ok?” she mumbled, trying to put Cara at ease.

She just got a disappointed look in reply.

“If you get hurt on this mission, it’s _his_ ass I’m whooping,” Cara said threateningly.

She laughed. 

“If I get hurt, it won’t be his fault and you know it.”

Cara rolled her eyes because she knew it was true.

“That being said, if _Poe_ gets hurt, it’s not _your_ fault,” Cara said, suddenly quieter, serious. “You can’t protect everyone.”

Avara pursed her lips, but she nodded.

  
  
  
  


✦ **A-wing** ✦

So, flying around dangerously made his headache better? Wasn’t he supposed to be sleeping?

Avara just shook her head to herself as the A-wing flipped over. She watched as the twins fell, followed soon after by the starfighter. It deftly slipped under the boys and they grabbed on to it. There was some laughter from the people around her, who were also watching the ridiculous stunts Poe was pulling.

The second she heard that an A-wing was flying around outside, she’d known it was him. Who else would pick an old A-wing to fly instead of one of the Fangs? Only Poe.

Someone else was flying out, towards the fighter. She tapped the side of her helmet, and her view zoomed in. 

Penn. Of course it was Penn.

Elin and Leon dropped off the A-wing shortly after Penn landed on the fighter. She watched on, apprehensive.

Then something happened. Something she didn’t see coming.

The A-wing fell. 

It just dropped. The engine had switched off, there was no glow from the thrusters. She stiffened, stepping forward as the fighter fell, spinning out of control. but she was too far away.

Penn lifted off the hull and Avara would’ve screamed if there was any breath in her lungs. Why wasn’t Penn getting Poe out? 

And then it hit her and she let out a shaky breath, shoulders releasing as the fear dissipated. 

And a split second later the engines kicked in with a strained roar and the fighter shot up with a triumphant spin.

She had to smile, shaking her head to herself.

And that’s when she knew.

The piece of metal she had been playing with last night? She knew what she would shape it into.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Lunch** ✦

Poe had flinched when she took her helmet off to eat afterwards. It took a second to remember the bruise on her face. It probably looked bad.

Papa was there with the little one this time, getting fed. After he finished his food, he clambered up her arm. She could feel Poe watching. 

This was something he loved to do, to sit on her shoulder and talk into her ear. They’d pretend to have a conversation. It would delight him. She loved to see his green ears lift in glee when she replied to his unintelligible chatter. 

Poe coughed suddenly, from across the table before swallowing thickly. Naura was standing behind him, perched on the bench with a laugh. She’d startled Poe.

They all watched as he interacted with the girl. Avara smiled. It was obvious Poe was quite taken with Naura. 

But the bright look in his eyes dimmed as he realised that his little droid was missing. He turned to look at her and she could see uncertainty flicker over his face. It sparked in her, then.

He was more worried than he was letting on. She stood to go with him, to look for Bee. 

Cara was looking at her pleadingly and she walked away.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Dance** ✦

Avara glanced at him as she stepped past, immersed in the music. His cheeks were pink in the firelight, eyes shining. He was transfixed. On her. 

She smirked to herself slightly as she turned away, moving back towards the center. But through her amusement, she could annoyingly feel her face burning. And it wasn’t the bruise.

  
  


They’d been surrounded by desperate children the second they finished, and dragged outside to display the moves of the dance. So they removed their helmets, and set them neatly on the ground before slowly demonstrating the steps.

Naura was there, and she shot a wink at the girl who grinned as she deftly copied Avara. Soon there was a large group of adults, parents and guardians, watching over as the children followed the dancers.

She noticed Naura disappear from her peripheral and turned to see Poe pull the girl into his arms after she rushed to him.

It just made something warm in her chest. Seeing Poe grin at the young kid cheerfully and chat with her as if he’d known her his whole life. 

And Avara found herself following the girl to Poe. Just in time to catch the last of their conversation.

He told Naura that she had the best dance teacher. As he looked straight at Avara with gleaming eyes. 

She couldn’t stop herself from blushing.

He asked if she was going to watch the sunset again and she was almost sorry when she said no. But, she added, she wouldn’t mind company for what she _was_ going to do.

She wanted to paint her star over, make it darker and more striking. She’d gone too long without it and now she wanted it in full colour. The way it had been before.

She’d missed it.

However, in the last second, something shifted in his gaze at the offer and he unexpectedly said no. He had an excuse, but she knew it was a lie.

But she didn’t press. If there was something else he wanted to do, she wouldn’t give him a hard time.

So she smiled and nodded, and said she would see him later, at dinner.

Naura, still in Poe’s arms, had silently watched this whole exchange with sharp eyes.

Poe didn’t show up for dinner.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Leaving** ✦

It was the same as last time. Her stomach was twisting unhappily as Papa spoke to them, reminding them of Ord Mantell’s dangers. 

Telling them to look out for each other. That, she was always going to do.

She said goodbye to Paz first. He ruffled her hair violently but she was ready for it, slipping under his hand with a grin. Penn gripped her hand, tight, just for a second. She knew what he was saying.

Be safe.

She nodded.

Then Cara grabbed her in that classic crushing hug of hers.

And now her father and brother. The long ears had drooped sadly.

She stretched up to nudge his helmet. His hand affectionately ran through the hair on the back of her head. He was silent. But then he was always quiet.

The baby began to cry and she offered him a finger. Usually, that settled him.

But this time it just made him louder, and she had to pry her hand out of his grip as she pulled away.

Avara felt sick as she followed Poe up the ramp.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Cantinas** ✦

Poe was clearly shy as he woke her up. His hands were soft as he pulled her to her feet in the dim room.

Then he spotted her tattoo.

It was almost always hidden under her vambrace so not many people even knew she had it. 

The wonder on his face as he stared at the stars made her smile slightly.

  
  


She was about to call out to him, telling him that it would be better for _her_ to deal with the ship manifest when he froze.

Then he backed away from the lowered ramp, crashing into her. She could feel his tense back through the thin fabric of his shirt as she stopped him in his mad backpedal.

It was too cold for him. She should’ve seen it coming.

Avara laughed, shaking her head, and slipped past him with Bee on her heels.

  
  


After dealing with the docking officer, who’d been incredibly grumpy, she left the ship soon after, to find a cantina.

It wasn’t hard to locate a suitable place. She slipped into the busiest and largest one she walked past and took a seat at a table towards the back.

She got some looks as she walked past. A few stares. Mandalorians must be a rare sight.

A few minutes later, a green Trandoshan sat down at her table and for a while she ignored him. He did the same.

Then he spoke in that hissy Trandoshan way.

“You a Guild member?”

Only three people ever asked that question. A bounty, a hunter or someone looking to get their dirty work done.

And she wasn’t interested in any of them. So she rolled her eyes inside her helmet and continued to ignore him.

But he leaned closer anyway.

“I have a job for you. Paysss well.”

“Not looking for a job,” she replied shortly.

“Hunterss are _alwaysss_ looking for a job.”

“Who said I was a hunter?” 

He leaned back, tongue clicking interestedly at her lack of interest.

“You’re here for information then. Well, maybe I can help you out.”

Avara groaned inwardly. These types of people were frustratingly common in a bounty hunter’s world. But she decided to humour him. 

Papa would always say that there was something you could learn from anyone.

“And how could you help me?” she asked, quiet.

He hummed appreciatively at her cooperation, despite it being slow.

“I could trade information for some of your ssskillful help.”

“What information?”

He clicked his tongue again, considering her thoughtfully.

“I need to get a sshipment off Mantell within the next twenty daysss. The increassing First Order pressenccce is making that very _hard_.”

He was a smuggler.

“I’m sure you could just cut a deal with them,” she suggested offhandedly, but her interest was sparking. “They’re usually not beneath it.”

“That would not be wise for me,” he hissed. “They would not approve of my cargo.”

Avara grinned inside her helmet.

“You’re stealing from them.”

He shifted uncomfortably, red eyes darting around.

This, she could manage.

“I don’t know if I can help you in the way _you_ want. But any information you can provide me, may just hinder the First Order on Ord Mantell,” she said in a low voice. 

He gave her a wordless hiss looking annoyed.

“I’ll ssssee,” he growled, standing up. “If you wish to get in contact, ask for Umosss. I have information, remember.”

She watched him trudge away and settle at the bar counter feeling amused. They were always dramatic like that. Her father had always disliked making deals with Trandoshans.

✦✦✦

Curiosity urged her to walk further into the city. After a long walk she decided to try another cantina. 

This one was quieter and seemed to have more locals than travellers.

She glanced up at the sky before she entered. It was getting dark. She’d be late getting back to the _Ember_.

The place was smaller and it had fewer customers too. There were two tenders behind the bar, a droid and a Twi’lek woman. She had pale blue skin and gave Avara a friendly nod as she leaned against the bar.

It surprised her, she was used to people being wary of her when she was in her beskar. But the Twi’lek didn’t seem cautious at all, quickly coming over.

“Drink?”

“ _Tihaar_ , if you have it.”

“We do. Bottle or glass?”

“Glass, please.”

She returned swiftly and placed the drink in front of Avara as she removed her helmet.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a Mando around here," leaning onto the table slightly. “Let alone a young one.”

Avara gave her a one-sided smile.

“We keep to ourselves for the most part. Is it usually this quiet here?” she asked before taking a sip of the burning liquid.

“At this time of day and week, yeah,” the tender said, leaning against the table behind her. “Work starts early for most people.”

The Twi'lek hesitated for a second.

“Are you a bounty hunter? Most Mandalorians are, right?”

“Quite a few,” Avara responded.

The Twi’lek gave her a curious smile, watching her sharply as she noticed Avara had avoided the initial question.

Another customer called from the other side of the room and she watched as the tender slipped over to pour another drink. Then she appeared back in front of Avara. Insistent.

“So are you a bounty hunter?” she repeated.

Avara huffed slightly at the inquisitiveness.

“Used to be. Not anymore. I’m just looking around for the most part.”

“Looking around for what?”

“You usually this talkative with customers?” she asked. 

She tried to keep serious, but it was hard to keep a small smirk off her face.

“Only the interesting ones,” the Twi’lek said, eyes flashing playfully. “I’m Jevi.”

“Good to meet you, Jevi.”

There was an audible pause in the conversation, as Jevi waited for Avara to introduce herself.

But she didn’t, instead choosing to take another sip of her drink.

“You aren’t gonna tell me your name?” she asked, looking amused.

“Maybe some other time.”

“Ok. How about you tell me what you’re looking for? I hear a lot, y’know?”

“I’m sure you do.”

Avara paused, hesitating.

“I’m looking for opinions,” she said, finally.

Jevi frowned.

“Opinions? On what?”

Avara took a gamble and fixed the Twi’lek with a pointed look.

“The First Order.”

Jevi’s green eyes shifted uneasily.

“I’m a Rylothian. I’m sure you can figure out what I think of them.”

Avara nodded.

“Can you tell me much about their presence here?” she muttered, leaning forward.

Jevi looked at her in surprise, before a slow smile spread over her face.

Jevi didn’t have too much to say, but she said she had a brother who worked at the shipping docks. And First Order shuttles were regular visitors.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Late** ✦

Avara had gotten caught up, talking with Jevi, and now she was almost an hour late. She strode back towards the _Ember_ , hoping Poe hadn’t tried to venture out and find her. But then he hadn’t commed her, so maybe he was busy or had fallen asleep.

Neither was correct, she realised, as she crashed into Poe exiting her cabin with her cloak over his head. He’d been about to come find her. And apparently he _had_ commed her. His eyes were dark with fury, shoulders rigid with tension.

But he was more than just angry.

And this, she observed less than a minute later, when his lips harshly pressed over hers.

For a second she didn’t know what to do. 

Duty and common sense said to push him away. But she wanted him closer. So, _so_ , desperately.

She tugged on his shirt. And he moaned softly as her fingers curled into his hair. She could feel herself burning up as she felt his pent up energy slowly ease.

But then a sliver of common sense kicked in and she carefully pushed him away. He leaned back at the slightest bit of pressure on his chest to stare at her. He was frowning, deepening that wrinkle between his brows. He was so beautiful. Lips parted slightly as he panted, the tops of his cheeks pink under the white lights of the gallery.

She could see it on his face. She wasn’t the only one who knew that this wasn’t a good situation. 

But he was willing to take the risk. So, as she removed her gloves, she decided she would too.

He pressed her against the wall as she stretched up to kiss him, deeper this time. He was so warm.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Draping** ✦

It was sometime the next day when Avara realised what Poe liked to do.

He’d just woken up and had slumped his way into the gallery, eyelids still low from his sleep. She’d glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the sight. 

His curly hair was flattened on one side of his head because of the way he’d been sleeping, and he was frowning as if unhappy he had to wake up.

She muttered a quick greeting.

But he just grunted in reply and leaned over her back heavily, his head thumping down onto her shoulder with a loud, tired huff.

For a second she hadn’t known what to do. Was she supposed to just let him be? Or…

Avara reached a hand up and hesitantly ran her fingers through his hair. And his head grew heavier on her shoulder as he hummed appreciatively. She had to grin. 

He stayed like that for a solid minute as she stroked through his hair, wondering if this was helping him wake up or making him even sleepier. And slowly, he pulled away with a large yawn and she watched him, amused, as he all but collapsed onto the bench in front of her.

Then he tilted his head up at her, still blinking sleepily.

It was fondness warming her skin. Unable to resist, she brushed a thumb over his cheek gently. His frown vanished and the corners of his eyes wrinkled up as he beamed at her.

He would do this a lot. In her head, she began calling them ‘drapings’. 

Because he’d come over for no specific reason and drape his tall self with his long arms over her short frame. And then she’d reach up to riffle through his hair. And he’d heave a massive, contented sigh, making her smile.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Attack** ✦

BB-8 was ahead of her, rolling back towards the _Ember_. The sun had already disappeared behind the buildings they were walking amongst, and the temperature had dropped sharply with its descent.

The small droid was moving slower than usual, the thick mud making his movement hard. She’d have to clean him up, back on the ship. He’d been good company throughout the day, as he had been yesterday too.

It was barely a few seconds after they had turned into an alley when she realised that had been a mistake.

They were being followed. Bee seemed to notice right after her, suddenly stopping. His head turned to look at her before looking up at the roof of the block with a short whistle.

And the alley exploded with commotion as attackers jumped off the roofs at her side. Her blaster was in her hand within a split second, picking them off as they came. 

But there were too many, too close. 

The gun slipped out of her hand as she felt someone grip her rifle, trying to pull it off her shoulder. She ripped it out of their grasp, unstrapping it to use as a staff. It was effective. Cracking against heads and jamming into stomachs. Tasing the occasional person with the end of it. 

She could hear Bee shrilling angrily behind her. She couldn’t be sure but maybe he’d also tased a few.

But there were still too many.

She was dragged down, into the mud where she writhed furiously. Hands were grasping at the edges of her armour, tugging.

Her blaster pressed into her, underneath her arm and she grabbed it. Some fled at the sight and she let them. 

Others backed away, but stayed, and Avara took the opportunity to stand back up.

They stood there for a few seconds, all of them panting, catching their breath, sizing each other up. There were five of them left around her.

It’s when she realised Bee had disappeared.

For a moment she thought he’d left because he was scared.

But no. He’d gone to get Poe, she knew.

The fight resumed. She was getting tired. It was hard to fight with all your energy for such a long time. But all she had to do was hold out until Poe got there. She'd briefly seen his shooting on Naboo and knew he was good with a blaster.

These assailants were obviously not trained like she was, but there were enough of them to make it a challenge. Her muscles were weakening, blows and strikes losing their power. She knew that they could feel it too as their fighting became more brash and frantic.

And a blaster bolt whizzed past her hip to sink into a leg in front of her. 

Her fire returned as Poe revealed himself with Bee at his side, giving her a fresh burst of strength. 

One of the men turned to point his blaster at Poe and she slammed the forked end of her rifle into his back, electricity sparking through him.

At a cost. She’d turned her back on one. 

And he slashed at her side with a knife. 

But he backed away and ran, seeing Poe sprint up.

Her partner reached her and she tried to ignore the wound that she knew was soaking blood around her waist. She couldn’t quite feel it yet. Poe’s face was the picture of worry.

But Avara harshly brushed him off, telling him to go back to the ship. She was in a bad state to fight and wouldn’t be able to manage if the attackers came back after regrouping. 

He was angry at the command, it was easy to see on his face. But he did as she said, turning away to run with Bee.

If some of the attackers tried to follow her back to the _Ember_ , it would be dangerous. So she walked around the adjacent block, keeping her senses on high alert for anyone trailing after her.

It was a struggle. The pain from her side was beginning to burn but she couldn’t stop walking. Because if she stopped walking to rest, she wouldn’t start again.

By the end of it, all she could do was focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

Poe rushed over the second he saw her. 

And maybe it was the relief of seeing him that caused her knees to finally bend under her weight.

  
  
  
  


✦ **Tend** ✦

He was so gentle. Just like he’d been when helping her wash her hair after Corellia. His movements were so careful and precise.

Poe touched her helmet and looked into her visor as if he could see her. His eyes were wide. He really looked close to tears.

She was glad that it was on. Especially glad after he’d poured bacta onto the broken skin.

It had been agony. 

She would’ve screamed if she hadn’t bit her lip. It was all she could do not to thrash around. The pain left her shaking and exhausted. 

It left him pale. She could see the fear on his face.

And then she let herself close her eyes as he wrapped around her, waiting for her breathing to subside, for the pain to ease.

She felt safe.

That couldn’t be right. She was injured and he couldn’t fight well enough to protect them both.

But she felt safe anyway.

That's when she realised.

  
  


She knew, when he removed her helmet as she sat on her bed.

When he wiped her face.

When he glared at her as she asked if he was alright.

When he didn’t stop looking afraid, even as they lay down to sleep.

She loved Poe Dameron.

✦✦✦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> Jetiise - Jedi (plural)  
> Aliik - signet, symbol worn on armour
> 
> It be my birthday tomorrow so I'll post a chapter tomorrow in celebration lol.  
> Hope you enjoyed that longer chapter!


	31. Glimmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 5 on Ord Mantell  
> Day 11 on Ord Mantell  
> Day 12 on Ord Mantell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap of Chapter 29:  
> BB-8 returns to the ship alone to get Poe as Avara is being attacked.  
> When they get back to the ship he realises she has been slashed.  
> He begins to patch her up.

***

He studied the tattoo he’d seen a few days ago on her forearm as he helped her stand to remove her bloodied pants. 

Her vambrace would normally cover her tattoo. And, as she almost always wore them, he knew it was probably rare for people other than her family to see the lines and dots on her skin. 

So he felt some sort of pride as he gazed at the stars. A pride that she’d allowed _him_ to see them. 

When she sat back down, now only in her undergarments, he knelt in front of her to clean off the extra blood. Using the towel, he gently navigated around the wound, wiping off the smears of blood. 

“That was a good shot.”

He glanced up, distracted. 

“Huh?”

“You shot one of them in the leg with just your pistol. You were quite far off. That was a good shot,” she repeated. 

“Oh, right. Thanks,” he mumbled. 

He tried to smile but he knew he probably just looked strained. 

“Why’d they attack?”

“I think they wanted the beskar. There were a lot of them at the start. By the time you showed up most had given up and run off.”

He just nodded stiffly, focusing back on the blood. 

Her fingers threaded through his hair and he automatically leaned into her touch. His eyes slipped shut with a sigh and he felt some of his tension fade. 

“Stop looking so worried,” she whispered. 

“It could’ve been worse than this.”

“But it wasn’t, and that’s what matters. There’s no point in stressing over something that _might’ve_ happened.”

Poe opened his eyes and tried to glare at her, but the fire had fizzled out. He was just tired. And her stroking his hair wasn’t helping either. It was too soothing.

He pulled away to grab some fresh undergarments from her drawer. He set them next to her and turned his back, giving her privacy. 

He took this chance to pull her cloak off and dump it on the table. But there was mud and blood on it, so he stalked back to the ‘fresher to wash his hands again. 

He was about to walk back in when he heard her talking. He strained his ears to hear. 

“...listen to me, ok? But I owe you one. Thanks, Bee.”

There was a chirp in reply and Poe peeked around the corner. She was patting the droid with a fond look on her face and more of Poe’s anxiety slipped away. 

She was alright. She’d be fine. Getting injured was a part of life, especially theirs. 

  
  


_This_ was the danger. What Cara had meant. 

When someone you love is in danger or gets hurt, you don’t think straight. You just can’t. 

The way he’d rushed out of the ship to find her, he’d forgotten all about the mission. It was just her, in his mind. He’d been lucky he took the cloak to wear, but he only did because it was hanging on the door, easy to grab. 

The importance of their mission had just vanished. She’d been in danger. And that had been all he was able to think about.

***

They were lying down now, facing each other, legs tangled. The sharp blue bruise on her face from her fight with Penn seemed to stand out more now, because of her pallid skin. 

  
  


He’d almost left to sleep in his own room for that night. He didn’t know why. But she had patted the bed next to her as he tried to say good night and he crawled in without further hesitation. 

  
  


She was watching him closely. He knew why. He was rarely this quiet. 

Her fingers started in his hair again, almost putting him to sleep. But then they slipped down and he opened his eyes.

She began tracing the lines of his face. Her icy finger ran over his eyebrow then gently over his eye making it flicker shut for a second. It coursed over his cheek then down the edge of his jaw to his chin. 

Her eyes followed her finger but he watched her eyes as she studied him.

“What are you doing?”

Her finger stilled under his bottom lip. 

“Nothing," she whispered, avoiding his gaze as if shy. "Do you want me to stop?”

He smiled slightly. 

“No.”

Her finger brushed over his lips, widening his smile and he just had to stretch forward and kiss her. 

Then he shifted up, higher on the bed to press his lips to her forehead and scooted closer, careful not to jostle her and rested his chin above her head again. 

And his last thought as he stroked her hair before they slipped into sleep, was just how lucky they were that her injury hadn’t been worse.

***

He fiercely babied her for the next three days much to her amusement and annoyance. 

He helped her walk everywhere she wanted to go. Brought her food and water. Helped her to the 'fresher. Sometimes helped her _in_ the 'fresher.

The bacta he’d used for her after the incident and then the next day was extremely strong, speeding up the healing. 

By the third day, she was able to limp around on her own. 

But Poe still hovered behind her, following her everywhere. 

By the fourth, she was fed up. She wanted to go back out, do her cantina visits again but Poe put his foot down.

It was obvious she wasn’t ready to go out, let alone by herself. She was still refusing to let him go out with her.

She was still hobbling. She wouldn’t be able to run or fight properly if there was any danger.

They ended up yelling at each other before reverting to silent treatment, much to BB-8’s misery.

But Poe still hovered.

She was in the pantry later that day, reaching for something over her head. He was slyly peering around the corner, keeping his usual eye on her.

She must have stretched just a bit too far because she jerked suddenly, doubling over with a yelp and clapping a hand over her waist. She lost her balance and stumbled sideways. And she almost hit the floor.

But she didn’t because Poe darted in, grabbing her.

He’d been hovering.

She wouldn't meet his eyes, thoroughly embarrassed that she’d proved him right. He got a muttered “thanks,” as he reached up and easily grabbed the food she’d been reaching for.

  
  


Two whole days later, she finally took him out. Just walking. He stayed right next to her despite the occasional crowd. 

Naturally, he was bundled up in layers due to the cold climate. 

He had pulled her grey scarf out from his bag to tie around his neck. She’d given him a sharp look at the sight of it, but didn’t say anything. He knew if she really wanted it back she'd ask. So he smiled wider when she turned away, without a word.

For the first few minutes outside, he felt like a child as he puffed out warm breaths just to see it mist up in front of him. He hadn’t been to many cold planets before. 

They strolled through markets. The place was fascinating. Food, clothes, trinkets, anything could be bought on the streets. 

A stall selling what looked to be jewellery caught his eye and he wandered over as Avara haggled over some food behind him. 

Bracelets, pendants, rings, piercings, earrings... everything.

A small pile of string and metal made him shuffle over, and he carded through the bracelets carefully, with Jess on his mind. 

She loved these sort of charms. He found a gorgeous blue and green band made with woven strings and dotted with silver beads. 

This one. He knew Jess would love the colours as she grew up on Dandoran.

He looked around suddenly wondering if there might be something for Karé or Iolo. Unfortunately, Snap wasn’t a jewellery person.

Karé… would like a necklace or pendant.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Avara was still there. He didn’t know how, but during the split second he looked away and then back, an old wizened man had materialised behind the stall table. Right in front of him.

He twitched, startled, and the man gave him what was an incredibly wrinkly smirk. Poe smiled, feeling sheepish.

“Hello, sir. I’m just looking,” he said politely.

The man just nodded and shuffled away to tidy something.

Pendants… there were plenty hanging from the beam over his head, at a perfect height for him to look through. Most were made of differently coloured metal, though some were wood or stone too. He searched through them, eyes flicking rapidly. The hood hanging over his head was frustrating, obstructing his view. So he held it up, off his forehead as he looked.

Something touched his waist lightly and he hummed in greeting. 

Avara’s small touches were apparently a habit, he’d learned. After pretty much living together for the past week, he’d finally stopped jumping every time she moved up behind him silently.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something for Karé. I found this for Jess,” he replied, showing her.

“It’s nice,” she said after a second.

“You get your food?”

“Yeah, we can eat back on the ship. Don’t go too far, I’ll be back in a second,” she said softly, slipping off. He watched her blend away, into the crowd and shifted uneasily. But he turned back to the pendants. 

And he smiled as he found one.

It was a small purple crystal attached to a long length of black string. He knew it was something Karé would like. So he gently unhooked it and held it with Jess’ bracelet.

Now… a ring for Iolo. 

The man was obsessed with rings. It was how they had become friends back at the New Republic Academy. Iolo had seen Poe’s ring slip out of his shirt during training and his curiosity had piqued.

Avara appeared back at his side.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah. I stepped wrongly though, and now it’s hurting again.”

He could hear her slightly strained voice and he frowned in concern.

“You leave me for _one_ second..." he sighed. "Ok, let’s head back. Can you walk?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Ok, let’s go.”

He was about to put the bracelet and pendant down but she grabbed his wrist.

“Aren’t you gonna buy them?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Poe,” she mumbled, “just buy them. I can wait like one extra minute, it’s not gonna kill me.”

“But if it’s hurting we should-”

“ _Buy_ them, _di’kuut_.”

So he sighed and looked to the old man who’d been watching the exchange with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He scooted forward and Poe leaned closer, over the table.

“How much for these two?”

The vendor lifted his hand and snapped his index and thumb together twice in reply.

Poe shifted uncomfortably, about to say he didn’t understand, but Avara stepped forward.

“He said twenty credits. Wait,” she said as she nudged past him. 

He watched, bemused, as the two communicated with short sharp gestures, obviously bargaining the price. 

“Nine credits,” she said finally, turning back to Poe. 

He smirked at her, unable to hide how impressed he was. 

The old man was clearly pleased too, it was a decent price. Twenty was far too much, he'd been trying his luck. He grinned at Poe as he handed the credits and quickly signed at Avara again. She tilted her head and they turned away. 

She _was_ limping again, very slightly. 

“What did he say?”

“He said that he only went that low because you’re a handsome man. Oh don’t look so pleased with yourself,” she added after seeing his grin. “You’d be surprised at how often the vendors will say that sort of stuff to customers.”

But he could hear a smile in her voice. 

***

The second they got back they quickly checked her wound. It didn’t look any worse but it was possible she’d pulled it. 

  
  


The next day they did the same, but they went deeper into the city this time. Where the comms wouldn’t work. It was more crowded here and because of the taller buildings, the sunlight couldn’t reach through, meaning it was colder too. 

Poe was slowing down to look at a stall when her hand closed around his wrist and she dragged him forcefully to the side, hastily stuffing him into a narrow alley. He was about to ask why when he realised even the crowd had lowered in volume.

He heard them before he saw them. The crackle of radio-talk and modulated voices.

Four stormtroopers strolled past them, down the street. Immediately he adjusted himself, leaning against the wall to look casual.

He could see some locals avoiding the troopers, staring down at the ground. But a few didn’t bother hiding glares at the white helmets.

When the crowd returned to normal, he and Avara shared a silent look. He could see her agitation, even through her helmet.

Their walk back to the ship was tense. Poe spent the time preparing himself to hear her say that he couldn’t come out again.

But she didn’t.

“We need to get back on track. Back on the mission. We’ve slacked off these past few days. I’ve got a contact. Tomorrow, I’m going to the cantina,” she said carefully as they ate on the _Ember_. 

He opened his mouth to interrupt, to say that he’d go with her but she continued talking. 

“I don’t want you to come, but you can walk around outside with Bee if that makes you feel better.”

He pursed his lips but nodded.

“I’ll take that.”

She looked troubled as she stared at the table between them.

She was right. They’d both gotten distracted. Seeing the troopers had brought the mission sharply back under their noses.

Poe knew they were both thinking the same thing.

Should they stop? Hold off on the… this _relationship_?

He didn’t want to. He looked up at her.

She didn’t want to either. He could see it in her face. A mixture of guilt and worry and…

Poe shook his head.

“I don’t want to give this up.”

“Not even for the mission?” she mumbled, still staring at the table.

“We’ve already broken the rules,” he whispered. “Trying to go back, trying to _un_ break them is just gonna make it worse. Make it harder.”

She nodded. 

But he could still see the uncertainty glimmering in her eyes.

“We just have to be careful,” he added.

She nodded again, looking back at the table.

  
  


They both took a long time to fall asleep that night.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've figured out what the ending of this fic is going to be... but there's going to be a second work, a sequel to this because I have big plans.... :))  
> \- Iye


	32. Flicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Day 14 on Ord Mantell

***

The next day went as planned. Poe and BB-8 wandered around outside while Avara remained in the cantina. 

He had to duck into an alley twice as a patrol of stormtroopers clunked past, in their obnoxious white armour.

“This contact of yours, you see them today?” he asked through a mouthful of food.

“I left a message saying I wanted to meet. He wasn’t at the cantina this time.”

“Who is he?”

“A smuggler. Called himself Umos. I think his shipments consist of stolen First Order supplies,” she said with a sly grin.

Poe frowned. 

“A smuggler? Can we trust him?”

“Well, we have the same thing in mind, creating trouble for the Order. He needs an opening to get his shipment off-planet. He says he knows the city well, so he could have information that would be useful to us.”

“I guess it could be worth trying,” said Poe, nodding. “When did you meet him?”

“First day here. He was the one who came to me, thinking I was looking for a job as a hunter.”

It sounded familiar.

“Hmm. Should I come to the meeting?”

“Best not to,” she said, apologetically. “I still don’t know enough about him. Better to let him think I’m alone for now.”

He just nodded again, avoiding her eyes as he tried to keep his face devoid of disappointment. He could feel her gaze burning into him.

***

Poe remained on the ship as Avara went out to meet this ‘Umos’ guy.

She came back, and when she took her helmet off, her eyes were gleaming.

Good news.

Poe smiled at the sight.

  
  


“He said he knows the building where the First Order personnel seem to congregate.”

They were checking her injury. Because of the bacta, it had healed incredibly quickly. It was now just a long red, roughly scabbed line on her skin. Another scar.

“It’s in the middle of the city. Where the frequencies are jammed. According to him, that wasn’t there a month ago.”

“So we have a location,” Poe said, satisfied. 

It finally felt like they were getting somewhere.

“We can start planning an infiltration now. Any mention of the brother and sister? The Mignin siblings?”

“No,” she said disappointedly as he lowered the hem of her shirt back over her bandages. “I didn’t want to try and bring them up either.”

“Don’t worry. That was a good call. What else do you know about him?”

She frowned. 

“Not much. He just wants the First Order’s nose to be turned away from him, as he gets his cargo away. And if we’re honest, we’ll be doing that anyway. May as well have an ally while we do it.”

“Makes sense.”

***

Finally.

He was leaning against the counter, sipping an Elba beer. Avara was on the other side of the room at a table. He could tell she was restless because she was sitting perfectly still. Not a single movement. 

They had been there for about ten minutes. Poe had followed her into the cantina five minutes after her. The place was crowded, bustling. 

He kept his hood low over his face. 

Out of the corner of his eye, her helmet glinted as she turned her head. He glanced in the direction of her gaze and watched as a green Trandoshan made his way over and sidled onto the bench opposite her. 

The two talked for a few minutes before Avara glanced towards Poe with a tiny nod. 

And he sauntered over.

The Trando’s red eyes widened in surprise as Poe sat down. 

“I didn’t know you had a partner,” Umos said, glancing between them suspiciously. “Who is he?”

“Don’t worry about that. Tell us what you know.”

Her voice was different. Words sharp and clipped. Not her usual gentler way. 

It took him a second to realise she was speaking a bit like Din. Low and dry. 

Umos leaned in with an annoyed hiss. 

“The Order has some local contacts helping them accesss the cccity. I know people who think that the Black Ssun is involved.”

The Black Sun? Wasn’t that... 

“They haven’t been operational for years.”

“Actually they have, but they've been good at keeping under the New Republic's radar. The memberss hold influence in the city. Children of the Sssun’s original council.”

“Do you have names?”

Umos clicked his tongue nervously as his eyes shifted around. 

“Only two. It could be both or one of them. Moj and Mignin. Descendants of the syndicate’s leaders.”

And there it was. Mignin.

Poe continued to watch, silent as Avara nodded. 

“This will help us. Anything else?”

“How are _you_ going to help me?” Umos growled. 

“You need them to be distracted, to get your shipment away. We can provide that.”

“When?”

“You’ll know when it happens. Just be ready to leave.”

Umos glared at her. 

“You know,” she continued slowly, “the more information we have, the better the distraction will be.”

The Trandoshan considered them for a second, eyes flicking from Poe to Avara. 

“Sssouth Xomit City-sssector, you will find the old Black Sun sstronghold. I sssuggest you have a look there.”

“That’s not where the Order is.”

“No. It’s where Moj or Mignin will be.”

Umos stood up then, moving to leave. 

“Contact me again if needed.”

They watched as he slipped out of the cantina door. 

“Enlightening,” muttered Poe. “Xomit City-sector. Will we go there?”

“Let’s get back to the ship. Better to talk there.”

***

BB-8 zoomed around them as they walked up the ramp. Poe grinned as he saw Avara discreetly rub the top of the droid’s head. 

She took her helmet off as they sprawled onto the bench in the gallery. He took the chance to immediately reach up and brush through the flat curls stuck to her forehead. She gave him a bemused smile at the abrupt motion but didn’t complain.

Beebs whistled at them.

“Yeah, we got some new information. You wanna tell him?” he asked Avara. “I’ll get food.”

He stood up to go to the cooler in the pantry, hearing her explain what happened to BB-8.

“Black Sun, I’ve heard that before,” he commented as he sat back down.

She glanced at him, surprised.

“Yeah, it’s a crime syndicate. This ship belonged to them. We figured that out when we started the mission, remember? The writing on the wall in the cockpit.”

He blinked. 

“Right,” he muttered, remembering. “So, are we going to go to this Xomit Sector then?”

“ _We_?” she repeated, giving him a look. “No. _We_ are not going.”

“You can’t be serious,” he said, frustration immediately flaring up. “If you’re going, I’m going!”

Avara raked an angry hand through her hair. 

“That’s not how this works, Poe.”

“No, that’s _exactly_ how this works,” he hissed, clenching his fists. “We’re _partners_.”

She groaned and rubbed her face, as he glared at her. 

BB-8 was once again sharply looking from him to her.

“You can’t expect me to just _wait_ on the ship while you go gallivanting off to what we _know_ is a dangerous place.”

“It won’t be dangerous if my cover isn’t blown. You know this!”

He just remained silent.

“Poe,” she said, tone suddenly gentle. “I- I know that you’re worried about me getting hurt, b-”

“ _Again_ ,” he cut in grumpily.

“Again,” she corrected, the faintest smile wrinkling up her eyes. “But you have to trust me. I’ve said before. Let me do my job. It’s why I’m here in the first place, right?”

He looked away from her stubbornly but the anger was melting away.

Avara moved around the table to stand in front of him and cup his face. He closed his eyes as she pressed a soft kiss onto the top of his head. Then her cold fingers were on his chin, tilting his head up to look at her. 

Her gaze was serious.

“You can’t be scared. It puts the mission at risk.”

“And the mission puts _you_ at risk,” he mumbled as she tucked his head under her chin.

“The mission is the first priority.”

“Would you still say that if _I_ was in danger? If I was the one doing what you are doing?” he asked, pulling away to meet her eyes.

Her hesitation answered the question before she could even try to reply.

He just sighed and tucked his head back under hers in the silence, leaning his forehead against her chest as unease flickered around them.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter so expect the next one in a couple of days!
> 
> As usual, hope everyone is well and if you're in the mood, drop me a comment for any reason :)  
> \- Iye


	33. Hearth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 14 on Ord Mantell

***

Avara purposely took BB-8 with her when she left. It was smart of her because he probably would’ve used BB-8’s knowledge of the city to follow her to Xomit Sector. But he made her promise not to be too long.

From what BB-8 told them before she left, it was a half-hour walk to the sector. So they decided she’d be back in under three hours.

Well, not really decided. More like _argued_ for twenty minutes, before they came to a compromise.

He frantically pulled apart a component of the ship’s ion drive just to put it back together, to keep himself distracted while she was gone.

Avara was back exactly three hours later and he darted to her as the ramp opened.

She smirked as he carefully pulled her helmet off, revealing her amused smile.

“No need to look so relieved, Poe,” she teased, tilting her head slightly.

He pursed his lips, disgruntled.

"You can hardly blame me," he mumbled, half to himself as he followed her to the kitchen.

“Heh, guess not. Come on, I brought food.”

She’d found the building, she told him as they ate. It was nondescript, falling apart. Nothing special. The Black Sun symbol had apparently been carved into the wall outside.

She complained about not having enough time to watch the place though, giving him a grumpy look.

“So can I come tomorrow then?” he asked sulkily, fixing her with a glare.

“Fine,” she muttered. “We can watch the building for the day. There’s a lodge opposite, we can watch from there.”

“Finally,” he moaned, sliding down in his chair and stretching his arms up.

She just shook her head, smiling as she finished her food.

***

Poe found it hilarious, seeing the look on the housekeeper’s face as they saw a Mandalorian walk through their door.

Avara had been generous with the credits though, buying discretion along with the room. 

The placement of their quarters gave them a perfect view of the faded, insignificant-looking building.

They took turns sitting by the window, watching through the dusty, yellowed curtains.

It was getting dark when he saw it, the sun having already disappeared from view.

He jerked more upright, peering into the street below.

“Avara! Someone’s trying to walk into the place!”

She scrambled up from where she’d been fiddling with her vambraces with BB-8 and darted over, peeking through the curtains with him.

Just in time to see a man in a maroon cloak slip through the door.

“So it _is_ being used,” he whispered. 

“But we don’t know for what,” she mumbled.

BB-8 trilled behind them.

“Yeah, he’s right. It might not have anything to do with the First Order. It might just be some random people using that building. It's so old.”

“That’s true,” he agreed. “But it’s still worth checking out, right?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, thoughtful. “Let’s wait though. Maybe tomorrow we can slip in.”

He nodded, feeling nervously excited. 

***

They stayed there for the night rather than heading back to the _Ember_ as they’d originally planned. 

The bed was large, a double compared to the singles on the ship, letting them both stretch out next to each other comfortably. 

  
  


He woke up feeling cold. There was a blanket tucked carefully around him but he lifted his head, shivering. Avara wasn’t next to him as she had been when he fell asleep. 

She was perched on the rickety desk next to the window, perfectly still. The way a predator would observe prey. Her eyes were so obviously fixed on the building across. She was thinking.

Poe just watched her for a second, neck straining as he kept his head up off the bed. 

She was so beautiful, half-illuminated in the light of two large moons. The other half was in dark shadow, too dark for him to see. She was so focused on the street, she hadn’t even noticed him watching her. 

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Her head turned to him sharply.

He grinned slightly.

“Did I startle you?” he asked teasingly before she could say anything, propping himself up on his elbows. 

“Surprised me a bit,” she replied softly, sliding off the table. “I didn’t realise you were awake.”

He automatically slipped his hand into hers when she sat on the edge of the mattress. She didn’t move to lie down though.

“Why did you get up? Did you hear something?”

“No, I- uh, I can’t really sleep.”

He sat up further with a small frown. 

“Are you not tired? Or is it not comfortable?”

“No, I am tired. A bit, not very much. It’s just- just a bit hard for me to sleep in an unfamiliar place,” she said quietly, almost as if she was shy. 

“I- shit, we should’ve gone back to the ship,” he mumbled, ashamed. “I didn’t realise, I never would’ve suggested we stay the night here.”

“It’s ok, Poe,” she chuckled gently. “I’m not someone who struggles to function without a bit of sleep. I’m used to it. Plus,” she added, jerking her head to the window, “it’s always good to see if anything happens at night.”

“That’s true,” he muttered. “Have you always had that? Not being able to sleep somewhere you’re not familiar with?”

He heard her sigh softly. 

“I think so. Sleeping lightly meant that less people would try to mess with you while you rested.”

He nodded, understanding. 

“Street kid days?” 

“Yeah,” she huffed, amused.

“I was lucky,” Poe murmured after a second. “I always felt safe growing up. I never had to be afraid of anything.”

He felt her shift on the bed and suddenly wondered if she was feeling resentful. If she ever did.

Resentful that he grew up loved by his parents. Never had to go hungry, never had to worry about surviving, about staying alive. 

He wouldn’t blame her if she did. It _was_ unfair. 

But she squeezed his hand.

“I always wondered what I would’ve become if I’d never been adopted,” she said in a low voice. “Probably would’ve ended up as another mercenary, just handy with a blaster.”

He ran his knuckles against her lower back, almost trying to comfort her.

“Sounds kinda badass to me.”

It managed to pry a small laugh out of her and she turned to affectionately brush a thumb over his cheek. He leaned into her hand and she scooted closer to kiss him delicately. Then she pulled away, grazing her nails against his stubble gently. 

“Do you want me to shave?”

She huffed again, leaning back slightly.

“Why are you asking me? It’s your choice.”

He grinned.

He hadn’t shaved in several days and it was quite dark at the moment.

“Yeah, but you’re the one who sees my face the most.”

She remained silent and his smile grew wider. Somehow he knew she was blushing even though he couldn’t see her face in the darkness of the room.

“Go on,” he whispered teasingly. “Do you think I look better with or without?”

“Both look fine,” she muttered eventually, turning away.

“ _Fine_? Wow, I get complimented more by _street vendors_ ,” he said, mockingly disappointed.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, shoving him lightly. “Stop looking for compliments.”

“But I love compliments,” he complained, still smirking. “Why-”

His question was cut off as her lips pressed to his again, pushing his head back into the pillow. 

But this time it was more fierce, rougher.

A hand on his sternum firmly pressed him down, into the mattress and he gasped into the kiss as he felt her move over him. Straddling him. Poe moaned, gripping her hips to pull her closer, desperate to feel more. Fingers wound into his hair, tugging lightly, making him grunt. Her lips slipped off his, and he lurched up for a second, trying to get her back. 

But then she was on his jaw, moving down onto his neck and he let his head tilt back into the mattress, feeling a flush run up his chest. 

His hands crept around her waist, running under the fabric of her shirt onto bare skin, and he felt nails dig into his shoulder, though not enough to hurt.

He drew his hands higher, thumbs rubbing over her ribs when she pulled away suddenly, with no warning.

Avara sat over him, just watching. 

He squirmed, self-conscious, as he realised that she could see him. The moons were shining through the window, onto his face. 

He was panting, blinking as he stared back at her, frustrated he couldn’t see what expression she had on her face. She was in the shadows.

“Do street vendors do that to you?”

Her low whisper made Poe swallow thickly. He didn't think he was able to do much else.

A thumb that had grazed so innocently over his cheek less than a minute ago now dragged back and forth over his collarbone, and he stayed quiet, just gazing up to where he knew her face was. 

He tightened his grip on her waist, automatically making sure to avoid her almost-healed wound.

He also felt vaguely thankful that BB-8 was powered down on the other side of the room. The droid would have never let him hear the end of it otherwise.

She was thinking. Deciding. 

He could almost hear it. He knew what he wanted. And he knew that she knew what she wanted too. 

But she was hesitating.

“Do you want this?” he murmured.

He felt her shift over him, uncertain, so he soothingly rubbed circles on the skin of her waist as he waited for her to reply.

“Yeah.”

He searched the patch of shadow that was her face.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. _Yes_ ,” she repeated. “Are you?”

He smiled and surged up to wrap one arm around her lower back and pull her close with one hand on her thigh. 

“Yeah,” he echoed.

She arched into him as he kissed her, opening his mouth and deepening it. He could feel her slow smile against his lips as her fingers ran through his hair again.

It was gentle now. Gentle and soft.

  
  


They moved slowly. They had all the time they could want.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh, they be lovers now huh?
> 
> Lmao I've never written a smut scene before so let me know if you really want one and I can figure it out I guess.
> 
> Next chapter up soon, as usual.  
> And yes, I officially made this fic a part of a series. There will definitely be a part 2 to this whole story :) be warned!


	34. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Day 16 on Ord Mantell

***

Avara was sleeping half on top of him and he was pretty sure that his arm was losing circulation but he didn’t dare move. It had taken her a while, but she’d finally fallen asleep.

He had managed to keep himself awake as he listened to her breathing grow deeper. He’d known that if he fell asleep first, she would have just gotten up again.

He drifted off soon after, a small smile on his face and his cheek against her forehead.

***

They stayed in that inn for the next day as well, only leaving for a brief trip to the ship for some supplies. 

She seemed a bit shy with him, after their bout of passion the night before. 

He teasingly pointed it out to her, only to have her blush and turn away, making him laugh.

She hadn’t been shy the night before, that was for sure.

***

The day after, not much was seen as they continuously eyed the Black Sun building from their window. They became less and less convinced that anything was actually happening there.

Which led to them sneaking in.

Poe had naturally annoyed her into letting him come.

The heavy door was unlocked, and no one on the street seemed to bat an eye at them fiddling with the entrance of the old building. So they carefully walked in. 

The room was large but dark, the only light being the sun shining through roughly barred windows, creating bright, dusty beams through the air. There was a staircase at the far side leading up to the next floor and he began to move towards it.

Then Avara switched on her helmet torch, generating more than enough light for both of them to see by.

“Looks pretty abandoned,” he muttered, gesturing his blaster around. “I’d say no one of importance to us uses the place anymore.”

She just hummed in reply and he glanced over to see her adjusting something on the side of her helmet.

“No,” she said softly, staring at a large wardrobe in the corner of the room. “No, they’re here.”

He frowned and followed her gaze. 

It was just some rusty old wardrobe, half falling apart.

But she pulled it’s doors open, looking up and down, studying it. And she reached in, pushing the back in several places as if searching for something.

“Watch the street, make sure no one walks in,” she said quickly, over her shoulder.

So he leaned against one of the blocked windows, alternating between peering outside and looking back at Avara.

Something caught his eye. Red. He squinted, focusing on where he saw the flash of the colour in the crowds of people outside.

Maroon cloaks.

The man they’d seen walking into this building two days ago had been wearing the same colour.

Alarm sparked in Poe and he backed away from the window, clenching his blaster.

“Hey, we need to go, I think someone’s coming!”

She whipped around, freezing for a second before hurriedly closing the wardrobe.

“Up,” she hissed, and they bolted up the stairs.

They stood at the staircase railing, out of view from the lower level. It was perfect timing.

The second they stopped moving, the doors below creaked open. 

Poe went still, but Avara shifted slightly, tilting her head as she tapped her helmet again.

Muted voices sounded from the room under them. 

Then she looked up at him, first pointing downwards before holding up three fingers.

Three people.

“Can you hear?” he breathed.

She didn’t turn to look at him again, but she gave him a tiny nod as her visor continued to watch the stairs, leaning against the bannister.

It would’ve been about two minutes later when her shoulders loosened. 

The voices had gone silent more than a minute ago. 

He relaxed as well, figuring that any danger had passed.

“We need to get out. Get back to the ship.”

Her voice was quiet, but urgent.

“What did you hear?”

“Let’s get back to the ship first,” she repeated stiffly.

His brows furrowed but he nodded, following her back down the stairs. 

They moved swiftly, their hands on their blasters as they left the building, striding through the various streets.

***

“The three people were arguing. I didn’t get enough to figure out what they were arguing about, but the name Hux was mentioned. Also, one of them called another by their name.”

She paused for a second, shifting nervously on the bench.

“He called her Fera.”

Poe gaped slightly, mouth slowly drawing into a grin.

“Fera Mignin,” he scoffed, slumping back against the wall and running his fingers through his hair. “One of the siblings. One of the others, could they have been her brother?”

“I can’t be sure, but… maybe.”

He huffed, still incredulous.

“We’re on the right track! Finally!”

She smiled slightly, nodding.

“And Hux, that would mean General Hux of the First Order. He’s a well-known name. What did you find in the wardrobe?”

“It was some sort of compartment. Fera and her companion used it. I think it goes underground.”

“Like some secret room or passage?”

“Yeah.”

“And you saw this with your helmet?” he asked, raising his eyes. 

He knew she had gadgets in that metal dome but seeing through walls was on another level.

She smirked.

“Pretty useful huh?”

Poe just laughed.

“We need to get Beebs,” he said, suddenly remembering the droid. 

They’d left him at the inn.

“I’ll go,” she said instantly.

“No, _I’ll_ go.”

She opened her mouth to object but he cut her off.

“I know the way well enough. I can fetch him. You go find your Umos smuggler friend, see what else you can find out. I’ll meet you at the cantina with Beebs.”

Avara glared at him, but she held her complaints back. He knew she agreed that it was a good plan.

“Ok,” she muttered. “Stay in touch over comms. Keep your hood down.”

He gave her a lopsided grin.

“Obviously. And be careful.”

She stood up as he darted to her, to give her a lingering kiss before rushing off down the _Ember’s_ opening ramp.

***

He was excited, to say the least. They’d been on Ord Mantell for almost three weeks now, and they'd finally got enough information to start a proper investigation.

He walked quickly, only slowing once as he slipped past a group of stormtroopers, being careful to look casual. They didn’t even spare him a glance, much to his amusement.

Oh, if only they knew they just walked right past the Resistance's best pilot...

BB-8 was thrilled to see him, as usual. Poe hastily told him they got new information and together they left the inn as quickly as he’d come, leaving a few of their belongings in the room. He and Avara weren’t done with the place, they still needed to watch over the not-so-abandoned building.

The housekeeper glared at him sourly as they left, Poe shooting them an overly-cheerful smile. 

  
  


“ _Poe? Come in, Poe._ ”

His comm vibrated in his hand with her voice.

“Hey, yeah, I’m here. Is something wrong?” he said softly.

“ _There’s that Order official at the cantina again. But-_ ”

“Don’t tell me to wait at the ship, I’m coming,” he interrupted grumpily.

“ _I was_ going _to say that the place is crowded right now so it should be safe for you._ ”

He rolled his eyes slightly to himself, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Ok. Thanks.”

They reached the cantina just under an hour later. Poe's legs were sore after the brisk walk as he hadn’t dared to stop on the way. BB-8 had kept close on his heels.

Avara’s armour glinted at him from a far corner. She was leaning against a wall, facing the Trandoshan. He kept his head down but his eyes flicked around the space, searching.

There.

The First Order lieutenant was sitting at the serving table. Not paying attention to anything but his drink.

So Poe sidled up to Avara’s side and Umos gave him a curt nod as he spoke.

“...believe you can?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“When?”

“Within the next week. It’ll be loud, so keep your ears open.”

Umos hissed in annoyance, red eyes glaring.

“Can’t you be more ssspecific on the timing?”

“You should be glad we’re even giving you a warning,” she said shortly.

“Alright,” Umos muttered. “I’ll keep a watch for your signal.”

He gave them another nod and made to walk off but Avara stepped sharply into his path, glaring up at him.

“You mentioned a payment the first time we met.”

Umos gave a wordless snarl, stepping up to her challengingly.

Poe stiffened and protectively moved closer to his partner. Even BB-8 shifted, and out of the corner of his eye, he even saw the droid’s arc welder begin to emerge from the small body.

For a second the three of them just stood perfectly still, glowering at each other.

Then finally Umos stepped back, releasing his shoulders.

“Half,” he growled.

“That’s fair,” Avara responded with a tilt of her helmet.

The man tugged a small pouch out of his belt and handed it to her. It disappeared into her pocket and Umos walked off. They turned, watching him go before sharing a look.

“Was that necessary?”

“A deal is a deal. He said it pays well. That’s half the reason I’m helping him,” she replied, sounding defensive.

Poe just rolled his eyes slightly.

“Ok. Come on,” he said as they sauntered to the door. “Where are we going now? Ship or back to the lodge?”

“Hmm, lodge I think. I want to watch the place more. See if there are any patterns to any comings and goings. Why don't you head back to the _Ember_?”

“I go where you go,” he said softly.

She deflated slightly, probably expecting a reply like that.

“Fine. Let’s go quickly though, it’s getting dark.”

***

By the time they reached, the sky was black and the streets were steadily getting emptier and emptier.

The second they stepped in, he knew something was off. The normally surly housekeeper was looking bothered, pale. They stood up sharply as Avara and Poe walked in and the two partners froze at the door.

“I- they came with guns, I couldn’t stop them! They wanted to get into your room,” they said urgently.

Avara moved to them, hand on her blaster, glancing up to the stairs.

Poe looked over his shoulder, through the open door. There was no one there. At least no one he could see.

“When? Did they leave?”

The keeper nodded. “They came right after your escort collected your droid,” they replied, pointing at Poe.

Poe whipped his head back around with a glare.

“ _Escort_?”

Avara just glanced at him, ignoring his outburst.

“Watch the door, I’m going up.”

She took the stairs two at a time and the housekeeper yelled up at her.

“What the _kriffing hell_ is going on? I don’t want no trouble here!”

“Yeah, we don’t either,” hissed Poe. “And I’m not a kriffing _escort_.”

“Take it as a compliment,” they snapped back.

“I- That’s not a compliment! That’s like the _opposite_ of a compliment! Just don't call people _escorts_!”

They were opening their mouth to retort but Avara interrupted swiftly, appearing at the bottom of the stairs. She was quick.

“That’s _enough_. How many of them were there? What did they look like?”

She had a bag he’d left in the room over her shoulder. 

“Four of them. One of them was half-Falleen, the others human.”

“Did you hear any names?”

The housekeeper shook their head.

Avara pulled the small pouch of credits from her belt and pulled a couple of pieces out, placing them on the table.

“This should be enough to cover any damage. Keep your mouth shut about us. And sorry about the trouble.”

Poe revelled in the uneasy look that flashed over the housekeeper’s face as they nodded nervously.

They were just walking out when Poe stopped and turned back suddenly.

“The people who came, what were they wearing?”

They frowned slightly.

“Uh, red cloaks. They all had red cloaks.”

Poe shifted uncomfortably as he turned back around, heading out.

***

They walked fast, hands resting on their blasters. He couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder every few minutes. The fact that the streets were completely empty didn’t help his nerves.

“Red cloaks? Does that mean anything?” she muttered to him.

“The first person we ever saw walking into that building was wearing a dark red cloak, remember? Well, when we got interrupted as we were investigating, I only saw them coming because they were all wearing the same colour. Red.”

“Right. Smart.”

“Not for them,” he mumbled with a small smile.

***

“Poe, listen carefully.”

He turned his head very slightly to his partner.

They were about twenty minutes away from the _Ember_ , still walking briskly.

“At the next intersection, I’m going to go straight. You’re going to turn right, to head for Jevi’s cantina. Bee knows where it is. Do you understand?”

“Why? Is someone following us?”

“I’m not sure. I think so. And we can't have them following us to the ship.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he growled, his tension heightening as he watched the intersection get closer.

“Poe-”

“ _No_. I can’t let you get hurt again.”

“If anyone _is_ even following, it’s only one person. I’ll be fine.”

“And what if they follow _me_ instead?” he asked, still stubborn.

“You’ll end up at a public cantina and they won’t be able to do anything.”

He pursed his lips. The intersection was less than ten steps away.

He couldn't... 

“Poe, trust me. Please.”

His hand shook, clenching his blaster as he turned right at the last second.

It was _instant_ regret.

How could he just leave her?

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to swallow past a lump in his throat.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written so far ahead that I've already started writing part 2 of this fic yikes. So I'll post every two days for a few chapters. Enjoy!  
> \- Iye


	35. Inflame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 16 on Ord Mantell

***

“Are you Jevi?”

The blue Twi'lek narrowed her eyes.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“Avara sent me.”

She frowned, shaking her head.

“Who?”

Poe blinked at her.

“Uh, curly brown hair, short. Brown and green eyes. Mandalorian?”

“ _Oh_ ,” she said, nodding. “The Mando. Right. Avara, you said? She never actually introduced herself proper. I was wondering if I’d see her again.”

Funny, he was wondering the same thing right about now.

Irrational fear shoved the thought into his mind and he almost physically flinched.

“Yeah, I’m her partner,” he muttered. “Can I get a drink? A beer?”

“Of course,” she said, moving away to grab him a bottle.

He glanced around the room.

There were about seven other customers there, all locals by the looks of them. None of them paying attention to him.

“So you’re her partner? Didn't know she had one. That’s a bit disappointing actually,” she said, with a small smirk to herself that Poe managed to catch.

Poe frowned.

“Disappointing?”

“Where is she anyway?” she continued, brushing past his question.

He squirmed nervously. 

“I- I don’t really know. We split up and she told me to come here.”

Concern sparked in Jevi’s eyes as she watched him. He knew she could see the fear that he tried to keep off his face.

“Split up? Why, what happened?”

“She thought we were being followed,” he mumbled, voice shaking slightly. He restlessly scratched at the label on his bottle as he avoided her gaze.

“Ok,” she said slowly, thinking. “Well, you can stay here until we hear something from her.”

He gave her a thankful look in reply.

***

Every time the cantina door hissed open, he’d turn to see who was using it.

And every time it wasn’t her. His anxiety just inflamed whenever he heard the door.

  
  


BB-8 was rolling around, exploring the cantina. 

Poe buried his face into his hands, willing time to pass faster, willing Avara to walk through the door.

“Hey.”

He lifted his head and looked around for a second, disoriented. He was the only person in the bar besides the Twi’lek and BB-8.

Jevi was standing in front of him watching him sympathetically. 

He wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

She was holding a plate of food which she placed on the table.

“Eat up. And try not to worry. I feel like your Mando can handle herself fine.”

“She can,” he muttered, picking up the spoon.

“Then why are you so worried?”

Poe just kept his gaze on his plate as he shovelled food into his mouth, unwilling to answer.

“Oh. I see.”

He scowled at his plate, hearing a slight amused tinge in her voice.

“How long have I been here?”

“Not very long, about an hour and a half.”

He just nodded tiredly.

The door swished behind and he looked over his shoulder as BB-8 shrilled.

Silver gleamed at him and he let out a soft groan as he slipped off his stool.

He automatically searched her. No blood, no hands pressed anywhere on her body. She was walking steadily. 

Poe crashed into her and they both staggered with the force of it. The chest plate hurt but he didn’t care, wrapping her up as relief exploded from inside him.

“Poe, I’m fine. Hey,” Avara grunted as he didn’t loosen his grip. “I’m alright. Sorry I took long.”

“You scared me,” he whispered, letting his muscles relax to lean onto her.

“You’re gonna have to get used to it,” she mumbled as he finally let her go.

“You’re fine?” he asked as he looked her up and down again. 

Then he frowned.

“I’m fine,” she confirmed again. “Hi, Bee.”

There was a black scorch mark on the corner of her chest plate and he reached out to touch it. It wasn’t there before. He knew what it was.

“Someone _was_ following then.”

“Yeah.”

She looked down to where he was staring.

It was a blaster mark. A bolt must’ve glanced off her beskar.

He swallowed nervously as he met her visor.

“You’re _really_ not hurt?”

“I’m not hurt,” she confirmed, squeezing his arm.

“Hey Mando,” said Jevi from behind him. 

He’d almost forgotten about her. 

“Hi, Jevi. Thanks for staying open longer than usual. I owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Do you need to stay tonight? I live upstairs. It’s late. Probably shouldn’t be walking around outside.”

Avara hesitated for a second, glancing at him. 

Poe just shrugged in reply. 

“I think we will,” she said to Jevi finally. “Thank you.”

The Twi’lek nodded with a gentle smile.

Avara gave him a tired smile as he pulled her helmet off. Jevi was rustling up some more food for her as well. 

He brushed a hand through her hair, the last of his tension finally slipping away.

***

They both quickly began to eat the food provided by the Twi'lek, sitting at the counter. 

Then they began talking. Avara seemed unbothered that Jevi sat in front of them and listened in, so Poe didn’t bring it up.

“I was right, it was only one person tailing us. I took the gamble that they’d follow me cause I had the bag. I just led them in circles for a long while and then doubled back and surprised them.”

“Red cloak?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re sure they won’t follow us here?”

One of her eyebrows flicked up slightly.

“Yeah.”

“Did you kill them?” asked Jevi suddenly.

Avara looked up at the Twi’lek.

“Does that bother you?”

Jevi just shifted uneasily but shook her head.

Poe glanced at his partner who just nodded and continued eating.

She looked exhausted, with a slumped posture and rings under her eyes.

***

He clambered up the ladder that Jevi directed him to, leading up to the roof. Avara was there, sitting with her legs dangling off the edge.

He quietly sat down next to her. 

Her gaze was fixed blankly on the street below. The only acknowledgement she gave him was the slightest tilt of her head. Her fingers were curled, digging into the rough duracrete of the building and her back was stiff.

Poe knew what was going through her mind.

Killing isn’t easy. It never is. 

It’s easier in a cockpit. You never really see your opponent's face from the seat of an X-wing. 

But pointing a blaster, and seeing them hit the ground? That was different. That was harder.

He pulled off a glove and slipped his bare hand under her curled fingers. Her eyelids fluttered and slowly she pulled her gaze away from whatever was playing in her head to look at him. 

He picked her now limp hand up and placed it in his lap. She watched as he gently pulled her brown glove off, finger by finger. Then she turned her eyes up to him.

She had that soft, tender look as she looked at him, the look she’d given him on Mandalore when he had said thank you.

They silently laced their fingers together, holding tightly as they sat there in silence.

He hadn’t really studied them before. Her knuckles were covered in scars. The skin was rough, hardened after years of repeatedly breaking and healing. It looked like a painful history written on her skin.

“What are you thinking?”

Her whisper jolted him out of his stupor and he grinned shyly.

“Do all Mandalorians have scars like this?” he asked, running a thumb over the worn skin.

She frowned slightly at the absurdness of the question.

“I guess so. Why?”

“I dunno,” he muttered, shrugging a shoulder. “Just curious.”

She huffed.

“Anything else you're curious about?”

He knew it was more of a rhetorically teasing question.

But when he thought about it…

“Yeah, actually. How do you adopt? Like, how were _you_ adopted? Was Din just like ‘you’re my daughter now’ and you were like ‘yay, cool’ or something?”

The phrasing of his question pulled a smile onto her face and he inwardly rejoiced at the sight of it.

“Uh, well, sort of. He asked me if I wanted to stay with him and I said yes. Then when I turned twelve there was this ceremony where he made a vow to me… and that was it.”

“It sounds... more simple than I would have expected,” Poe said slowly.

“It doesn’t need to be more complicated though.”

He smiled slightly.

“I guess not. _You_ ever think of adopting a kid?”

She sighed, something flickering behind her eyes as she stared at the dark sky above them.

“Maybe one day. I think so.”

An idea made his eyes widen and he looked down at her pointedly.

“What?” she asked, frowning.

“I think I know someone you could adopt,” he muttered, raising an eyebrow.

Her frown deepened before understanding bloomed.

“Oh,” she said, smiling as she turned her eyes back to the sky. “You mean Naura.”

Poe nodded eagerly and Avara chuckled.

“You could, right?”

“I suppose. But I think she’d be much older by the time I think about raising a kid.”

He exhaled heavily, breath misting in front of him, as she gave him a mildly amused look.

“Yeah. Just a thought.”

They fell silent, but the lull in the conversation was a comfortable one. He continued to play with her hand, running his own fingers over her skin. They were going a bit numb in the cold, but it was worth it.

“What do we do now? Now that these red-cloaks know we’re watching them? Or, _trying_ to watch them.”

He glanced at her as she spoke. 

She looked troubled. Worried.

“Leia said we need data. Information,” he said slowly. “And the only way we can get that is to infiltrate a server. A data station which will be in their base, their headquarters.”

Avara just nodded, eyes fixed on the street below them again.

“And, well,” he mumbled, “they know we’re here now. Which makes our job harder.”

“Their server would be wherever Fera and her companions went in that Black Sun building. That secret compartment in the wardrobe.”

“Yeah. We’d have to get in somehow,” he said.

Her face hardened at that and instantly he knew what she was thinking.

“No,” he snapped. “ _No_. You’re not doing it without me. No way.”

“Poe, it just makes more sense-”

“ _No_!”

“Hey,” she growled, “just _listen_ to me. It makes more sense for only one of us to go in. If we both go in and get caught, the mission is done for. There’s no point in both of us being at risk.”

He shook his head, glaring at the black sky. The two moons stared back.

“You _know_ I’m right,” she murmured. “You can’t let your feelings get in the way, Poe. This is the job. You agreed.”

“You can’t just expect me to… I’m not. I’m _not_ letting you do it by yourself. If we get caught, we get caught. But I’m staying with you.”

“Poe,” she groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Don’t be an idiot. You have to let me go. If we both get caught they’ll have leverage and you know it.”

“If our places were swapped, would you let me go alone?” he demanded. 

She looked at him sharply.

“I’d trust your skills,” she said quietly, glaring at him.

“This isn’t about me not trusting your skills! Would you let _me_ go alone?”

She looked away, clenching her jaw.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t. So how could you think I’d let you go alone?”

“Poe-”

“I couldn’t let you go and not know what you were facing. You know I couldn’t.”

“Ok,” she whispered, defeatedly staring at her boots.

He blinked.

“I can come?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded slowly, slightly taken aback.

“Hey,” he mumbled after a second, pulling her dejected gaze back to him. “We’ll do this _together_ , ok? We’re partners. It’s why Leia put us _both_ on this mission.”

“Well, she certainly didn’t put us together to fall in love,” she muttered.

His breath seemed to halt in his chest, and he looked at her suddenly.

Avara flinched, realising what she said, just a bit too late. She shook her head, quickly, just to herself as she moved to stand up. She was avoiding his eyes.

“I- I’m going to, uh, go sleep. I’m tired.”

The words to call her back seemed to get lost in his throat and all he could do was watch as she disappeared below.

He sat there by himself, long after she left, half freezing to the cold roof as he watched his warm breaths curl white in the air.

***

The next day was tense. She hardly looked at him. Barely spoke to him.

  
  


They slipped back to the _Ember_ the next day, Avara borrowing one of Jevi’s cloaks. She had removed her armour for the walk back to the ship, to avoid any recognition.

  
  


It was hurting him. Made something ache in his chest whenever they passed each other, when she wouldn't meet his eyes.

He struggled to go about his regular daily activities when she was in the back of his mind the whole time.

He wanted to approach her, ask her why she’d pulled away. But she’d probably just scuttle further behind her walls.

So he kept his head down as they navigated around each other on the ship.

  
  


Then at night, she vanished into her cabin. Alone.

And for a long moment, Poe hesitated outside her door, about to knock. Wanting to knock. To go in and curl up with her under a blanket the way they did.

But he pulled away, stomach twisting roughly, and walked up to the cockpit. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep in his bed.

So he stared out the viewports, at the dark sky, waiting to feel sleepy.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh, tense.


	36. Smother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Day 17 on Ord Mantell

***

Poe managed to sleep for a few hours in the cockpit before waking from his uncomfortable position and wandering down to the gallery in search of food.

He sat on the bench, glumly eating a tasteless ration bar and rubbing his sore neck as he squinted in the white glare from the gallery lights. His cabin door slid open and he glanced up as BB-8 rumbled out of his room, from the charging port.

He blinked tiredly at his droid.

“Hey, buddy.”

His voice was scratchy with disuse.

The droid gave a small subdued beep.

“I- I don’t know,” he sighed. 

Beebs paused before giving a gentle whir.

“Maybe. Maybe... we should just go back to D’Qar after this mission is done.”

The little droid just looked at him silently.

“I don’t know what to do,” Poe whispered, burying his face into his hands for a second. “I can’t work like this. I can't do _anything_ like this. Let alone a _mission_.”

That’s when they heard it. BB-8 swivelled around and Poe lifted his head.

A small cry. From Avara’s cabin.

The droid rolled closer as Poe stood up, carefully walking to the door and tilting his head to listen.

A soft, distressed whimper. 

She was in pain.

He gasped, instantly moving to open the door. He burst in, slamming the button to put the lights on, before freezing in place.

A sliver of her face was visible under a blanket, pale and glistening with sweat. Her eyes were screwed up, face shifting in agony. Another suppressed sob slipped out from her throat and Poe flinched.

BB-8 whistled from beside him, upset.

He knew he shouldn’t wake her up. It would startle her and probably make her panic even more.

But he crept forward hesitantly. He couldn’t let her suffer through… whatever she was seeing.

And then he saw red smears on the sheets around her.

His first thought was that the knife injury on her waist had reopened. But hadn’t that healed?

Alarm burned in his gut and he gently tugged the blankets off her, untangling them as she twitched with another stiff groan. 

He swallowed nervously, scanning her. He couldn’t see any blood, but that was likely because of her dark clothing.

One of her hands was tightly wound around and under the thin fabric of her shirt. Poe reached out, touching her hand gently, trying to uncurl her fingers.

And when he did, he saw blood under her nails.

She flailed again, her hand pulling out of his to return to her stomach. Digging her fingertips into her skin, through her shirt.

“No, Avara, hey, wake up,” he gasped, holding the sides of her face. 

She was hurting herself.

“Avara!”

She jerked, eyes flying open with a strangled cry, thrashing to escape from his grasp.

Poe pulled back sharply, holding his hands out.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s just me.”

But she turned away, shoulders heaving with choking sobs. He didn’t know if she knew he was there.

“Avara,” he murmured. “Hey, it’s Poe.”

He cautiously reached out, brushing her shoulder. She recoiled, shrinking into herself more.

“Avara,” he whispered again, voice breaking as tears finally forced their way into his eyes.

He crawled closer.

“Come here. I got you.”

He slipped an arm around her torso, carefully turning and drawing her small frame towards him. He felt her stiffen and he froze.

“Avara, talk to me,” he mumbled desperately. “Please.”

She shuddered again, as another sob ripped through her. But she made no move to acknowledge him.

She didn’t want him there.

Something painful constricted in Poe’s chest and he let go, pulling away.

“ _No_.”

He paused, hovering over her bed as she spoke. Her voice was raw, laced with anguish.

“Stay.”

Her face was still turned away, hidden. 

“I’m sorry,” she choked out.

He moved back to her, wrapping his arm around again and rolling her towards him. She bundled into his chest and he felt her hands clutch at his shirt collar, shaking as he felt her try to smother her crying. He tightened his arms around her.

“No, no, don’t try to stop. Cry. It’s ok,” he whispered into her ear as he buried his face into her hair. 

“It’s ok,” he repeated, fingers stroking her hair. “I got you.”

They ended up falling asleep, curled into each other, dried tears on their cheeks.

***

He woke up first, confused for a second.

Then it came back to him.

She was still pressed against him, breaths soft and steady. Warm. 

Peaceful.

It was then that he remembered the blood he’d seen. So he scooted under her, moving as slowly as he could as to not wake her up.

But Avara's eyelids flickered anyway and he groaned inwardly, annoyed that he’d disturbed her.

“ _Vaii slana, cyar’ika_?”

He stilled.

That was Mando’a. Which meant… 

She seemed to realise the second she said it, opening her eyes fully and lifting her head to search for someone that wasn’t him.

It wasn’t really dismay that flitted over her face, but some sort of expectation seemed to fade from her eyes as she gazed at him for a second.

He stared back, trying not to show his discomfort.

But she clearly saw it because next, it was guilt that saturated her expression, and she looked away.

“I- sorry,” she mumbled. “I thought-”

“It’s ok,” he interrupted. 

He gave her a reassuring nod when she glanced back at him. 

“It's ok. You- I think you’re hurt,” he mumbled, changing the subject as he scooted over to get a better view. 

“There was some blood…”

She shifted off him, and winced slightly, a hand pressing against her stomach. He sat up further and reached for it but she pulled away, face suddenly guarded.

“Hey,” he said, frowning worriedly. “It’s ok. Let me.”

He pulled her hand away gently as it loosened and carefully lifted the fabric of her shirt. 

Her nails had dug into her skin, more than deep enough to draw blood. Right on her scar. The large circular one under her ribs. 

And once again he found himself wondering what it’s story was. 

He bit his lip, struggling to hide his uneasiness. 

“We need to clean it,” he said after a moment of hesitation. “I’ll go get the kit.”

He just carefully wiped the scratches with a disinfectant wipe. There wasn’t much else he could do. The blood had already dried and would soon act as a scab so he didn’t want to peel any off her skin. He just cleaned up the smears. 

Then he took her hand and cleaned her fingers. 

Avara still wasn’t looking at him. But when he glanced up at her he could see her eyes were gleaming, brighter than usual. 

He reached up to brush his thumb over her cheek. Reminding her that he was with her.

She blinked, turning her head away more as the tears dropped from her eyes, brushing her cheeks as the fell into the blankets.

Poe scrambled up to her side and once again embraced her, pressing his lips to her forehead in a kiss. 

Then he frowned and pressed his lips to her skin again before pulling away. 

Warm. Hot, even. 

“You’ve got a fever,” he whispered as she leaned further into him. 

He grabbed the blanket and dragged it up around her. 

There was a cheerful whistle behind him and he twisted to look at his droid.

“Hey Beebs, mornin’. Could you get me a water flask, please? Avara is sick.”

“I’m not sick,” she mumbled into his chest. “I’ve just got a fever.”

“Yeah, that’s included in being sick,” he retorted as BB-8 rolled off.

She sighed and tried to extract herself from him halfheartedly.

“I don’t need to be coddled. I’m _fine_.”

“Well, that’s just too bad because I _do_ plan to coddle you until you’ve got no fever.”

“Poe-”

“No, stop being so stubborn. I’m going-”

“ _Poe_ -”

“I’m going to look after you whether you want me or not,” he snapped, raising his voice slightly.

She seemed to shrink.

“I’m sorry.”

Poe fell silent, suddenly feeling terrible about speaking so harshly to her. He just settled his chin onto her head, tightening his arms again.

“I got scared,” she whispered. “I- I _am_ scared.”

He swallowed nervously.

“Of what?”

“Being in love.”

He was quiet for a second. 

“Are you in love?”

She nodded slowly, her hair tickling his chin slightly. 

He reached up to card through it gently as warmth settled in his chest.

“I am too,” he murmured, closing his eyes as he leaned his chin onto her head.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I think I figured that out.”

The corners of his mouth drew up.

“You can’t be scared,” he said, repeating her words.

She nodded again and he dropped a kiss onto her head.

There was an insolent chirp from the cabin door and Poe huffed a groan, whipping his head around to glare at the droid. 

“ _Yes_ , you can come in. You’re not usually this polite,” he grumbled as BB-8 rolled in holding Poe’s water flask.

He snatched the flask from Beebs’ outstretched claw as he glanced down, catching sight of Avara’s face. She was smiling slightly, watching the droid. 

It made something inside him loosen, relieving the stress he’d had for the past day.

***

Just like when she’d been injured, he coddled her. True to his word, he coddled her _hard_.

  
  


She shuffled into the gallery from her cabin, to where he was sitting. A blanket was wrapped around her, making her look even smaller than usual.

She had been sleeping for the last few hours after he had desperately tried to get her to eat food during lunchtime.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

Right before whatever colour that remained, drained from her face. She gripped the door frame next to her as she swayed and Poe had darted over, holding her steady with a hand on her hip.

“Yeah,” he had muttered as he felt her forehead. Still burning. “That answers that.”

Then he deftly scooped her up into his arms amidst light protests.

“Back to bed. I’ll bring you anything you need.”

“Can you bring me the ‘fresher?” she grumbled from his shoulder.

And Poe paused and then sighed. He walked the two steps to the ‘fresher door and set her down gently.

“Call if you need anything. I’ll be here.”

She just nodded, too tired to try to object.

***

That night as he was crawling into her bed next to her, she stopped him.

“You’re better off sleeping in your own room for tonight,” she mumbled hoarsely.

“What? Why?” he asked, pulling away with a frown.

“I’m not going to get much sleep. I’ll disturb you.”

It was probably true. She didn’t look comfortable at all, shivering and fidgeting despite the layers she was bundled in, eyes slightly glazed.

But he shook his head.

“That’s ok. I’d rather be nearby,” he said gently.

“No, Poe. We can’t have you getting ill as well. You need to rest too. Both of us being sick wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

BB-8 whistled reassuringly from behind him.

“Yeah,” she said. “Bee can keep an eye on me. Go on. Go sleep,” she finished with a soft push on his arm when he hesitated.

He sighed, pursing his lips.

“Ok,” he said finally. “You’ve got enough water? Do you need to use the ‘fresher before I go?”

“Yes, I’ve got water and no, thank you,” she murmured. 

He could tell she was trying not to smile.

Her lips were hot when he kissed her, making him frown slightly. But he pulled away all the same.

“Come get me at the slightest problem or change,” he muttered to Beebs with a stern shake of his finger.

The droid just chirped happily.

***

He woke up to check on her in the middle of the night anyway. BB-8 gave him a soft but scolding whir as he snuck into her cabin.

She was fast asleep, thankfully.

But she still had a high temperature. So he lumbered into the ‘fresher to wet some towels with cold water before slipping back to arrange them carefully on her forehead.

Then he sat there for a few more minutes, just running slow fingers through her damp hair for a while before creeping back to his cabin.

***

It seemed like her fever had broken sometime during the night.

When he woke up in the morning, he had a vague memory of her crawling into his bed and curling up against his chest as she usually would, sometime in the night.

She was tucked against him now, still warm but definitely better than the previous day.

He got a lazy hum in greeting as he began running fingers up and down her spine, gently waking her up. But she just squirmed, stretching her limbs before relaxing and nestling closer. He had to smile at the cuteness of it.

“Feeling better huh?”

She gave him a noncommittal grunt.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Thanks for the cold towel,” she sleepily mumbled into his sternum.

“You’re welcome. I- uh, I’ve been meaning to ask…”

“What?”

He blushed, formulating the words in his head.

“How do- I mean, are there any, uh, Mandalorian pet names?”

He cringed internally as he said it, glad she wasn’t looking at him with his burning face.

There was a rather loud silence for a beat.

“You mean… for us?” Avara asked, really slowly.

He wished he could just disappear.

“Yeah.”

“There aren’t many. Just a few common ones. People normally just make one up.”

“What would you call me?” he asked after another pause.

He could almost hear her thinking.

Then she chuckled, making him frown suspiciously. 

“ _Ner vaar’ika_ ,” she mumbled, a smile in the words.

“ _Ner vaar’ika_ ,” he echoed. “What does it mean?”

“My pip-squeak.”

Yeah, she was so obviously trying not to laugh. He could feel her shoulders quivering.

“What? No! Pick another one!” he whined.

“Ok, ok. Let me think.” 

She fell silent again.

“ _Runi'dral_.”

“What does it mean?”

“Bright…” she trailed off, searching for some word. Unable to find it, she tapped his chest.

“Heart?” he suggested after a second.

“No, uh... deeper.”

It came to him.

“Soul,” Poe whispered.

“Yes. Soul.”

He didn’t really know how to respond to that.

Bright soul.

He leaned away to tilt her chin up so he could kiss her, some happy warmth stirring comfortably in his chest.

“I’ll take that to mean you liked it then.”

He nodded, mouth shyly twitching into a smile, eyes still closed from sleep.

He felt her stretch up and lean her forehead to his.

And his breath caught because he understood.

He knew this gesture.

It was a Mandalorian way of showing love. They would do it with their helmets, he'd noticed.

  
  


They stayed like that for a while, not moving. 

Not wanting to move.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations:  
> Vaii slana, cyar’ika? - where are you going, darling?
> 
> hope you guys liked the fluff lol :) Things will start kicking up a notch very soon!  
> I'll post the next chapter tomorrow cause it's short.


	37. Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 17 on Ord Mantell

***

“We get distracted too easily.”

“You were _sick_. We couldn’t do anything for the mission.”

“ _Still_. We need to finish it and get out of here,” she said, pointing her fork at him. “The soo-”

“-sooner the better, yes, I heard it the first twenty times,” he grumbled.

Poe was given a rather stern look, reminding him of Leia again.

He smirked at her as he shovelled another spoonful of food into his mouth.

At least her appetite was back. Her plate was already clean, as usual.

“So, an infiltration to gather data from the Black Sun stronghold in Xomit.”

“Which I’m doing with you,” he said immediately, holding her gaze levelly.

Her eyes hardened but this time she didn’t argue.

“Bee will also come. I’ve got a data disk we’ll use to transfer files. We can also keep a lookout for those three missing scouts.”

She paused.

“There’s not much else we can prepare for,” he mumbled. “We have no idea what’s waiting for us. No advantage.”

“Apart from the fact that they probably won't expect us to just walk in.”

He nodded.

BB-8 whistled apprehensively and Avara looked at him.

“Yeah. We’ll locate the servers, download what we can and be out of there before they realise.”

“When?”

“We can do it tomorrow.”

“No,” he said. “Day after. You’re still a bit sick.”

She rolled her eyes slightly.

“Not really. You said you couldn’t feel a fever when you checked an hour ago.”

“You’re still not at your best and you know it,” he said scoldingly, folding his arms as she stood up. “We need you at peak health for this, _cyar’ika_.”

He knew he was blushing, using one of the words she’d taught him that morning. 

But he held her gaze as unwaveringly as possible, relishing the sight of her cheeks going pink too.

Her eyes sparked and she smirked slightly, walking around the table to him.

Poe reached for her hips as she stood in front of him, his mouth rightfully going dry.

She placed a knee on the bench next to his hip and he pulled the other one up to his other side.

“Beebs, get out,” he hissed, holding her gaze.

The droid fled from the room, beeping furiously. The door slammed.

He was just stretching up to kiss her when she quickly leaned back, avoiding him.

“You’re still saying it wrong.”

“What? I say it the exact way you do!”

“Shah- _ree_ -kah,” she said slowly, sounding it out for him.

“That’s what I said,” he growled, tightening his grip on her waist.

“So say it.”

“ _Cyar’ika_.”

She was holding back a smile. He could see it glimmering in her eyes again.

He scowled.

“There's nothing wrong with my pronunciation, is there? You just like hearing me say it. You get off on it,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes to slits.

She shrugged nonchalantly but her smile was definitely dangling on the corners of her lips, confirming his accusation.

“ _Kiss_ me,” he demanded. 

“Not until you say it right,” she said, mockingly serious.

He cocked his head, glaring at her frustratedly.

Fingers began to slip into the hair at the nape of his neck and he jerked his head away from them as his breath hitched.

Her eyes glinted knowingly.

“No, that’s unfair,” he muttered. 

“ _Unfair_? That’s harsh. You know what you have to do. _Say_ it.”

He was hopeless.

His eyes squeezed shut stubbornly as he desperately mulled over his options and her mischievous chuckle sent a jolt into the pit of his stomach.

“No,” Poe murmured, opening his eyes. “No, this time _I’m_ making the rules.”

He savoured the look of surprise on her face before he crashed upwards into her, arms tightening around her as he held her in place. One of his hands slipped under her shirt, travelling up her back and she leaned into him further with a sigh.

Poe smirked and arched his hips, pressing up against her slightly as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Her soft moan was pure music to his ears. He could feel her gripping his shirt, tugging, egging him on.

So he obliged, bucking up again, pulling out another beautiful sound as heat coiled in his gut.

Her fingers scraped through his hair again and he broke the kiss, letting his head fall back, enjoying her touch as he gazed up at her.

“Bed?” he mumbled. “Or here?”

She considered him for a second.

He loved the way she was panting lightly, the way her lips were dark. 

Because of him.

“What do _you_ want?”

“Hm, so much right now,” he breathed, watching as her tongue darted out to wet her lip.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Bed or here?” she said silkily, asking him his own question.

“I think I’m enjoying it here at the moment,” he whispered, stretching back up to bite her bottom lip.

He grinned again as she hummed languidly, rucking up the hem of his shirt. Her nails grazed against his torso as they pulled it up and over his head, moving back into their kiss the second it was off.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> Cyar'ika - darling/beloved (basically one of those)
> 
> :)  
> \- Iye


	38. Detonation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 19 on Ord Mantell
> 
> Mission #3

***

It was time for the mission.

Avara was already in the Black Sun building with Beebs, and Poe was outside, leaning against a nearby building trying to act casual. 

Clenching his comm, tapping his foot nervously.

He hated not being near her.

The sun was high above, warming the street and the mass of people walking to and from their destinations.

She had been smart. Days ago, she had set altered charges around the building in the middle of the city that was currently rife with First Order activity. 

These explosive charges were modified to be extremely loud, but harmless. It would alarm anyone who heard it.

He’d initially been annoyed that she hadn’t told him what she’d done, but it wasn’t like he could complain for long.

The plan was to detonate the charges and wait to see if anyone left this Black Sun stronghold. Then, they would sneak in to get their data.

“ _Poe. All clear?_ ”

“All clear. Set them off,” he muttered back, some stress releasing at the sound of her voice through the comm.

And a second later he heard them. Everyone heard them. 

A roaring, thunderous noise. He knew it was a forty-minute walk from where they were, to where the charges had just detonated. So the volume really was impressive.

The babble of the people in the street slowed as people stopped to listen, heads turning in the direction of the blast.

Then it rose in alarm as everyone broke into chaotic movement, rushing to find safety.

He took this chance to saunter through the agitated sea of people, very much unnoticed by anyone, closing the small distance to the large, creaky door. He hefted it open just enough for him to slip in as he took one last look at the loud street.

Nothing suspicious.

She was standing at the bottom of the stairs they’d run up the last time. She beckoned him and he quickened his pace, jogging across the room to join her in running up the staircase again, where they were going to wait for ten minutes.

BB-8 was already there and Poe gave his droid a small nod, who adorably returned it, the small, domed head bobbing.

“Good distraction,” he whispered as they knelt by the bannisters, shooting a glance at Avara.

She replied with a quick thumbs up.

Barely a minute later, there was commotion in the room below. Fast footsteps and voices low with urgency. The door creaked.

And then more silence.

Whoever it had been, was gone. Most likely to investigate the ‘bombings’.

  
  


They waited longer, still and tense, straining their ears. It became unusually quiet as the noise of the street outside faded away.

But no one else moved through the space between the dubious wardrobe and the front doors.

He was beginning to squirm, uncomfortable with the waiting when he finally felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Let's go,” she said softly.

So they carefully crept down, Avara leading the way with BB-8 thumping down the stairs, one by one behind him.

Poe took up his old position, leaning against a window to keep a lookout as his partner went back to fiddling around with the wardrobe.

The street outside was almost completely empty.

“Ok, come here.”

He darted back to her to see that the inside of the wardrobe was… not there. It was now a tiny doorway.

“Ah, nice. Good scouting,” he said with a quick grin as he poked his head in.

It was a small room with a line of buttons down one wall.

“Turbolift,” she said and he nodded. “Goes down.”

“Well, it looks much newer than this building. Ok, Beebs, let’s get you in there.”

Both of them scooped BB-8 up. 

“He’s heavier than I thought,” she grumbled as they deposited him into the fake wardrobe.

“Isn’t he?” Poe replied fondly as Beebs trilled.

Then he clambered in and she followed.

An automated panel slid over the opening, closing it.

“Ready?”

“ _Tsikala_.”

He gave her an amused look, recognising the word from Naboo.

She tilted her head playfully in reply.

Beebs chirped as the lift jolted, beginning it’s descent.

“Yeah, it’s your turn buddy. You gotta find us the server room.”

  
  


About thirty seconds later, the turbolift shook to a stop.

The two partners turned, pressing their backs to the sides of the lift, pulling out their blasters as they waited for the door to open. He looked at her and she gave him a tiny nod.

After a long moment, the door slid open.

And they were met with silence.

The lift had opened into a long hallway. Every surface was a pale, dull grey duracrete, lit by a stripe of white light down the middle of the floor. And it was completely empty.

Slowly, they stepped out with their blasters ready, BB-8 whirring in between them.

The lift door clanged behind them and Poe jumped.

“ _Really_ , Poe?”

“I’m tense,” he growled back. “Shut up.”

The static from her helmet indicated a chuckle and he shook his head.

BB-8 began to roll forward with a low hum.

They exchanged looks.

“Let’s go.”

The walk was nerve-wracking. And frustratingly long. BB-8 led them through identical hallways and doors, and even down some stairs. 

When Poe leaned over the railing and looked down, there were too many levels to count.

At one point he glanced over his shoulder to see Avara placing something against the bottom of a wall.

“What is that?”

“A sensor. Someone passes it, I'll know.”

“Useful.”

  
  


“Why is no one here? I thought there would actually be people here.” he breathed.

All the silence was making him uneasy. He almost wanted someone to jump out and start shooting. It would've been more normal than this stillness.

“I’m going to guess they plan to make this a full-scale First Order base,” she muttered from behind him. “It’s just not staffed yet. They’ll move soon, from the place I just disrupted.”

“Or, they know we’re here.”

“Or that.”

He swallowed nervously.

“You’re sure there aren’t any cameras?”

“I’m sure.”

  
  


At least the doors were numbered. The first door they’d walked past had been labelled ‘AA-1’.

And finally, BB-8 stopped outside a door. It was dark grey, identical to all the others. Door ‘AD-2’.

“This it?” he asked the little droid.

Beebs gave him an affirmative beep.

So he pressed the button for the door.

Again, the room was completely quiet. Not a single person in sight.

“At least the decor is different,” he said dryly as they walked in.

“Yes, the grey is now black. How nice.”

He snorted at her sarcasm, shaking his head again.

“Ok, where’s that disk of yours? Beebs, let’s get the transfer started.”

There were three data stations crammed into the room. Easy pickings.

Poe pushed the disk into a slot and the machinery hummed, accepting the disk and pulling it in further.

“I’ll keep a watch.”

He nodded, glancing at Avara briefly as she leaned against the doorway.

“How long will it be?” he asked his droid, getting a sure beep in reply.

“That’s long,” he commented, frowning at the bar that was haltingly growing on the screen in front of him.

“What did he say?” called Avara from the door.

“About fifteen minutes. And time is going slower than normal right now,” he complained.

“Fifteen isn’t too bad. Why don’t you browse through some files? That should keep your impatient self busy.”

“I'm not impatient,” he muttered, settling into the chair.

“Says the person who could hardly keep still for ten minutes upstairs.”

“Hey, shut up. I can't turn myself into a statue like _you_ can.”

“How in the galaxy did you manage Naboo? We waited above that mine for more than an _hour_. What were you doing then? Now I'm picturing you playing games with Bee to pass the time.”

He whipped his head around to glare at her, affronted.

“I was _not_ playing games with Beebs, I was keeping a lookout like I was supposed to. Like how _you're_ supposed to be doing right now instead of bothering your mission partner while he's trying to work.”

She laughed, shaking her head, helmet shining brightly in the white light. The sound of it pulled a smile onto his face as well and BB-8 chirped from next to him, amused.

  
  


Six minutes later, he was still sitting at the data station, flicking through First Order documents. The bar showing the download progress was just over half full.

“Hey, you ever heard about a planet called Ilum? It’s mentioned a lot, but most of the files are encrypted. I can't tell why it's important.”

“Ilum… no, doesn’t sound familiar. Search up the Resistance,” she suggested after a pause. “I wonder what they have.”

He huffed, smirking slightly.

“Why not.”

“Well,” he said a minute later, “they don’t know where the base is, so that’s fine. And they _really_ don’t like Leia,” he commented, grinning.

“That’s understandable. She’d probably been a thorn in their side for a long time now.”

“Yeah of course, I mean she was-”

“A sensor has been triggered.”

He flinched as BB-8 whirred nervously, jostling back and forth.

“What? How many did you place?”

“Three. If the second one is set off, we’re moving.”

“Ok, uh, this is almost three quarters done." He paused. "There’s no alternate route out of here, is there?”

“Unless there are more lifts going to the surface, no.”

They stared at each other, rigid with tension as they both imagined the worse.

“The second one was tripped. They’re moving fast.”

Instantly he moved to release the data disk from the station, fear putting him on edge.

“It’s seventy-six per cent done.”

“That’ll have to do,” she mumbled as she breezed past him, walking further into the room. She sounded strained.

“What are you doing?”

“That ventilation vent. I want to get a closer look. Bee, come open it!”

“It’s too small for us,” Poe said quietly.

“This is why I wanted to do this alone,” she hissed, barely restrained anger seeping into her words as she glared at him. “It’s big enough for Bee if he keeps his head low. Give him the data disk.”

“Buddy,” he said gently, as a small compartment extended from the droid’s body. “Take this and get back to the ship. Be _careful_. They might know what you look like, ok?”

“The third one was triggered. We have thirty seconds before they get to the door,” she said stiffly. “Get moving, Bee. We’ll see you soon.”

They got a mournful beep in reply as BB-8 disappeared into the darkness of the shaft.

Avara grabbed the grating and Poe helped her jam it back into place. 

No one would be able to tell it had just been removed.

  
  


Something thumped against the door and both of them twitched, drawing their blasters and firing at the door’s control panel at the same time.

“That’ll keep them for a minute.”

He nodded, swallowing against a lump in his throat, watching her walk towards the door and bend down to stick a charge on the floor.

“For when they walk in,” she explained softly when she noticed him staring. “This is a normal one. So stay back.”

“Ok.”

She followed him to the back of the room and they crouched behind the furthest data station from the door.

He reached for her suddenly, in a sharp burst of panic and buried his face into her neck as she curled around him for a second. Then she pulled away and gripped his face tightly with both hands, touching her helmet to his forehead.

“It’ll be _alright_. Now pick your blaster up.”

There was a small bang from the hallway as he grabbed his blaster. He clenched his jaw, preparing, hardening himself. They peered over the edge of their cover, watching at sparks burst from the seams of the door. And the door leaned in and collapsed to the floor.

It was unusually silent as Poe and Avara ducked back down, the crash of the door echoing. 

Her finger was hovering over a button on her vambrace. He crawled to the side, poking his head out to see.

Four people had entered, treading cautiously, quietly, as they looked around the room with their blasters held up. More were coming in behind them.

Poe scrambled back, pressing his shoulder back to his partner’s. He gave her a decisive nod.

She pressed the button.

And the room exploded.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> Tsikala - ready, prepared
> 
> So school is starting to stress me out (for good reason, I got my big exams soon) so I don't know how much I'll be able to write in the next few weeks as I can really only write properly when I'm in a good mood.   
> Luckily I've written several chapters ahead, so you'll still get periodic updates for a while! I'm sorry if the updates slow down though. I love writing this story and I intend to finish it as best I can, I ain't abandoning it!  
> \- Iye


	39. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Day 19 on Ord Mantell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Updated tags! **

***

It smelled of burning. The room was filled with smoke. The only way he knew where to shoot was from the light of the blasters.

Avara’s blue plasma shield was like a beacon through the haze of the room. 

They could see her glow, so they were aiming at her.

She was drawing their fire away on purpose. 

Leaving Poe to crawl to the other side of the room, unnoticed and begin picking them off, one-by-one from behind. It took about three of them to fall to the ground before they realised he was even there.

And then he had to lunge back to their original cover, as blaster bolts chased him back into hiding. One seared past his head and he felt the heat of the air as it narrowly missed him.

“You ok?” she called as she veered back to him, also ducking behind the datasation.

“I’m good,” he yelled back as she returned fire, flinching as a volley of bolts hit the wall.

There was a dull thunk sound, like something hitting metal. 

And his partner grunted as she jerked back, floundering down into the floor next to him.

“Avara!” he shrieked, lurching to seize her arm as fear imploded inside him.

No _, no-_

“‘M fine, I’m fine, beskar,” she pointed out to him quickly.

He could see a mark on the crown of her helmet. The force of the bolt must’ve pushed her back.

He dragged her up and they resumed shooting, the fear of seeing her on the ground leaving him tense.

But in the brief distraction, their enemies had crept closer.

There were just too many of them.

  
  


The firing stopped. Poe scooted closer to his partner, heart thumping.

“Surrender! Put your guns down and you won’t be killed!”

Avara shifted, adjusting her grip on her blaster as she exchanged a look with him. 

“Come out with your hands up,” the same voice said slowly. “And we won’t kill you.”

“What other choice do we have,” he whispered.

He could almost see the conflict in her visor.

But she gave him a small nod, and rose slowly, holding her blaster to her side.

Poe followed.

  
  


They were very much outnumbered. More than a dozen blasters were pointed right at them. 

“Oh, look what we got here,” drawled the voice. “Aren’t you going to drop your blasters?”

The partners let their guns fall to the floor.

“Search them.”

The voice belonged to a Falleen woman, light green skin and jet black hair that fell to her shoulders. There was a pleased look in her eyes.

It made Poe uneasy.

Rough hands patted him down, finding his knife that was tucked inside the top of his boot.

“Watch it!” he growled, flinching as a hand brushed over the front of his pants.

He glanced at Avara. She was receiving similar treatment, but they were being more careful around her. Wary.

They were scared of her.

The realisation was satisfying, making him grin. They should be.

One man reached to grab one of Avara’s vambraces.

She jerked her arm out of his grip and with one swift movement, backhanded him across the face. He hit the floor just as sharply, groaning.

The room once again bristled with blasters, all of them pointing at Avara.

Poe stiffened, but no one fired.

The Falleen chuckled, obviously amused.

“I’m going to be nice and let you guess who I am. I’m sure you’ve heard my name.”

_Oh_.

“You must be Fera,” Poe sneered after a second, mockingly polite. “It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance. I guess.”

Avara stood perfectly still beside him. 

Fera Mignin. One of the siblings.

Shit.

“That’s right,” she replied with a small smirk. “And we’ve caught the Mandalorian too! How nice. I’ve always wanted to meet a Mandalorian. Now, you both know my name, what about telling me yours?”

“I’m Leia Organa, this is Han Solo,” Poe replied without skipping a beat as he gestured to Avara.

His partner shifted slightly and he knew she was amused.

Fera’s smile didn’t disappear but her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Alright then,” she said smoothly. “I can work with that. I’m just going to guess you’re Resistance. You know, your determined little band of terrorists have previously sent us two gifts? And now, you’re the third. It won’t take me long to figure out who you are.”

She nodded, self-satisfied.

“Cuff them. Make sure to cuff the feisty Mando behind their back. And dump them into a detention cell. One of the clean ones please,” she called as they began moving. “My brother hates the dirty ones.”

And they were unceremoniously hauled off to the lower levels, binders clipping tightly and heavily around their wrists. 

***

The second the cell door closed behind them, all the lighting switched off, plunging them into darkness. 

It was silent then, as they listened to the receding footsteps outside. 

“Are you ok?” he asked the second it went silent.

“Always. Come here,” she mumbled from somewhere on his right. 

So he turned with outstretched hands and it bumped into her shoulder. 

“There’s a small switch on the side of my helmet, above my right ear. Find it.”

His fingers fumbled for a few seconds before he felt a tiny bump. He pushed it and it shifted up, illuminating a bright torch flashing right into his face. 

He flinched back at the glare of the sudden light then watched her look around the cell. 

It was big. For a cell at least, from what he’d imagined. Bigger than their cabins on the Ember. 

“There are no cameras in here either,” she said softly. 

Poe allowed himself to sit, sliding down a wall and pressing a hand into his face. 

She sighed and sat down next to him as he reached up and switched her light off. It was hard with both of his hands cuffed together.

He leaned into her slightly and felt her metal cheek rest on his shoulder. It was comforting. 

“I’ve never been captured before,” he muttered. 

“You haven’t? _Really_?”

“No! Why do you sound surprised?”

She chuckled teasingly and the sound of it made him relax slightly.

“Have you?”

“No, I haven’t either.”

They fell into more silence.

“Can you take my helmet off? I would if my hands weren’t-”

“I know. We’re lucky my hands are in front rather than behind like yours.”

She hummed in agreement as he carefully lifted the helmet off and placed it on his lap. He’d never actually admired it before. Not properly. Not that he really could right then, without light.

So he just let his fingers run over the edges and ridges, feeling the smoothness of the visor and the hollowed cheeks. It was beautiful, even though he couldn't see in in the darkness.

“I’m _not_ sorry for joining you on this mission,” he whispered.

It seemed to echo in the silence of the room. 

“Sure, I’m sorry we’re caught. But I’d rather be with you.”

“ _Di’kut_ ,” she said gently with a small sigh. “I know. I would’ve done the same. And you already know that.”

“What do you think they’ll do? You think they’ll kill us?”

She was quiet. 

Poe could almost hear her thinking. 

“No. They won’t kill us.” 

She sounded sure. So sure. 

“Did you hear what she said?”

“What?” he asked.

“She said the Resistance had sent two gifts before. And that we were the third.”

Poe frowned.

“That’s not right,” he whispered, suddenly seeing what Avara was getting at. “There are three missing Resistance scouts. Not two.”

“Exactly. So I think there’s someone here who might help us.”

“Probably. Maybe undercover or something.”

He let this thought soothe him. 

“Plus, we’ve got Bee. He knows something is up.”

Poe smiled into the darkness. 

“Yeah. He's waiting for us.”

***

He was nodding off onto her shoulder when a sound made him jerk up sharply. Footsteps from outside. Getting closer.

His hand found the hem of her shirt and gripped it tightly.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she breathed.

The door opened, and with it, the blinding lights. Poe winced, squinting in the glare.

“Mando, you’re coming with us.”

There were three guards.

His fingers tightened around her shirt. But she twisted out of his grip, moving to stand up slowly, fixing the guards with a threatening glare.

Poe made to scramble up too, but her foot swept under his hands, knocking him down. 

Keeping him down.

He jerked his head up in shock as she looked down at him. Apologetically but in warning.

Don’t do anything stupid.

Two of them grabbed her by the arms and Poe stiffly struggled to his feet again. He threw himself at one of them, trying to rip the man off her in a blind rush of panic.

“Let her go!” he snarled.

It was as if he’d forgotten that his hands were bound.

But he couldn’t let them take her.

Avara yelled, and a second later he realised why. 

The third guard jammed something into his back. 

And Poe fell to his knees as electricity burned through him, ripping a scream from his throat. 

The door snapped shut, plunging the cell back into darkness.

He knelt there, alone, gasping and shaking from the pain.

What would they do to her?

Poe tucked his head into his knees as he waited for her to come back, trying to stop the fear and panic from welling up inside him.

***

It had been almost an hour. That much was clear.

He was slumped against the wall, despairing, staring at the endless darkness in front of him. The shackles on his wrist were heavy and frustratingly tight. A constant reminder of where he was.

There was no way out of this place that he could see. He couldn’t get out and help her.

The only consolation he could cling to was that he knew he would never give the Resistance away. 

And neither would Avara. 

She was stronger than him after all. 

***

The lights were too bright, too blinding for him to see anything before the door quickly closed again, switching off.

But he had heard them drag something in.

So he leaned forward, hands outstretched, searching. They bumped into something and he felt around, patting.

An arm.

Relief exploded in him and he released a shaky breath.

“Avara?”

He scooted forward, fingers finding her head.

“No,” he breathed, horror filling him slowly.

Her hair was wet, face sticky. 

Blood.

He shifted closer with a small moan, slipping a hand under the side of her face, cupping it.

“Avara?”

She was lying on her side. She was completely limp, unconscious but her breathing was steady. 

All her armour was gone, even her vambraces. Her cuffs were gone too.

Poe sat back for a second, just feeling helpless. There was nothing he could do to help her. He was powerless.

He pressed his face into his hands. 

They were trembling.

He had to stay calm. Do what he could.

And the only thing he could do was stay close to her. If she woke up and knew he was there, with her, she’d feel better.

So he ran his fingers up and down her arm, gently, soothingly. The repeating pattern calmed him and he heaved a slow breath, fitting his breathing to the time of his continuous movements.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, I should probably warn you guys that the ending of this part of the series is _not_ on the happy side..... :)
> 
> [And thank you for the comments they really make my day *teary-eyed emoji*]


	40. From Avara II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avara's POV throughout chapters 31 - 39

**✦✦✦**

**✦ Tracing ✦**

Poe was terrified. That was easy enough to tell. 

The tightness in his eyes, that constant wrinkle in between his eyebrows. His silence. The way his fingers were tight around her wrist, unwilling to let her go. She could feel her own heartbeat in his grip.

It was understandable, really. She could’ve been hurt pretty badly. If the knife had slashed into her waste any deeper, who knows what kind of damage it might’ve done?

But she wanted him to stop looking so scared.

So she raised a hand and began stroking his hair. And he sighed, the muscles in his face beginning to relax, eyes slipping shut.

Stars, he was beautiful.

She’d seen it the day they met too, but now she was up close, staring at him. 

And _Stars, he was beautiful._ It was far too easy to admire him.

She let her hand pull out of his hair and instead began tracing the features on his face, her finger running over his skin. 

His dark eyes opened to watch her curiously as she continued, making a path down his face to his lips. They were pouting slightly as he frowned at her. 

His question, asking what she was doing, sheepishly kept her eyes averted from his.

Then Poe smiled as her finger skimmed over his upper lip and he kissed her.

She could almost feel the tension leaching from him as he melted into her.

Avara’s last feeling before she fell asleep in his arms was a delighted little pull in her chest, when she realised he had stopped looking scared.

**✦ Negotiate ✦**

Poe was restless with energy next to her, his foot tapping the floor rapidly, waiting for the ramp to open fully.

She had finally agreed to take him outside. She got her own taste of being cooped up on the ship during her days of recovery. And it hadn't been fun by the end of it.

Not that her wound was fully healed, it wasn’t yet. But she could walk relatively well, thanks to the bacta.

Poe abruptly darted away into his cabin, apparently remembering something he’d almost forgotten. 

She rolled her eyes as Bee beeped tiredly, obviously sharing her thoughts.

And then her partner had returned with a smug look on his face. And with her grey scarf around his neck.

She glared at him through her visor, but a smile was pulling at her lips.

There was no way she was getting that scarf back. He had claimed it.

It was special to her, that piece of cloth. One of the first gifts she’d ever received from anyone.

Papa had bought it for her sometime after he’d taken her in. He’d walked into the Razor Crest after spending a day looking for a quarry on some random planet. And he’d pulled the cloth out of his pocket and swiftly wrapped it around her shoulders without a word.

She’d never owned anything so soft or delicate before. It was her first proper, unstolen treasure.

It suited Poe.

Plus, she liked seeing it on him.

  
  


As she led the way to the markets, she pretended she didn’t notice him huffing out breaths of air. The way it would condense into small white clouds seemed to amuse him. It was endearing.

He trailed after her, staying immensely close. 

He ended up stepping on the backs of her boots several times over before she finally turned to glare at him. His cheeks went pink under the hood of her cloak and he mumbled a quick apology.

  
  


Being a Mandalorian in full armour certainly got her good deals on anything she wanted to buy. It was easier to argue over a price when your opponent was slightly afraid of you.

But she was fair. She wasn’t stingy, she’d pay a fair price. It wasn’t like she was struggling for money.

However, _this_ vendor was being particularly stubborn, refusing to lower her price. It was only when Avara moved as if to walk off, when she went down, reluctantly handing over the food Avara had been after.

Poe had been drawn to a small jewellery shack across the street. When she slipped up to his side he showed her a bracelet he’d picked out for Jessika, one of his pilot friends back on D’Qar. 

She grinned to herself when she remembered her yelling for him to bring them presents as they had left.

That First Order building was nearby, she realised suddenly. Just less than a minute away. So she headed off to see it again, briskly walking through the crowd. Her wound was a dull, faint throb, easily bearable.

It was a larger building than the ones around it. Two armed guards leaned against the wall outside, chatting to each other. 

She turned and walked down the short alley alongside the building.

No one was there. No one was watching.

So she took the chance to discreetly place four charges along and under a ridge on the wall where they wouldn’t be seen.

She had altered them after meeting the Trandoshan, Umos. He had wanted a distraction, so she’d taken the liberty of messing with the circuitry of the charges, making them louder by fiddling with the amplifiers.

She would give Umos his distraction.

As Avara made her way back to Poe, two children darted into her path, forcing her to stop sharply. The movement twisted something in her stomach and made her wound ache painfully. Gritting her teeth, she continued until she was back at Poe’s side.

The worry on Poe’s face when she mentioned her aggravated injury was sort of comforting. He was prepared to drop everything immediately and get back to the Ember just to check that her injury was ok. It was sweet.

But she couldn’t let him leave the bracelet and pendant that he’d picked up for Jess and Karé.

Turns out Poe didn’t know Galactic Sign.

Avara’s father had taught her every word of every language that he knew, all the way from Huttese to Twi’leki. And several variations of Sign. And he knew a lot, with all his travels.

So she nudged Poe aside to negotiate the price with the old vendor, her hands and fingers easily setting into the motions when she recognised his dialect. 

Poe was in the corner of her eye, smiling as he watched her get him a fair price.

As he handed over the credits that were due, the man playfully quipped that he had only gone so low in price because Poe was a very handsome fellow. And she had tilted her head in agreement before turning away, smiling to herself.

Naturally, Poe asked what the man had said. So she told him and glanced over to see her partner grin and puff out his chest happily.

**✦ Night ✦**

It hadn’t taken long for him to fall asleep, stretched out on the large bed. She wished she could fall asleep that easily. 

But she’d always been a light sleeper.

You couldn’t afford to be a heavy sleeper living on the streets. Others would steal from you.

You couldn't afford it even as a bounty hunter. Especially in a place that wasn’t familiar.

So she waited until his breathing deepened to slip out from under his heavy arm.

If she couldn’t sleep, she may as well watch the building they came here to watch. She lifted herself onto the high table and sat there comfortably, letting the sound of Poe’s steady breathing soothe her as she studied the street from her window.

But her thoughts whirled, going from her family on Mandalore, to old friends scattered around the galaxy, to their current mission. 

During the last few months, she hadn’t had any time to let her mind go quiet. So she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, feeling her heart begin to follow the slower rhythm that she set.

Her father had taught her this method. It was a good way to clear the head and relax the body.

A minute later, she realised she’d automatically synced her breathing with Poe’s. It made her smile to herself a bit.

Then she reopened her eyes and continued to gaze out the window. She was more relaxed now, more focused.

Maybe too focused.

When Poe spoke from behind her she jerked, startled. She hadn’t even noticed him waking up.

He grinned at her, half his face lit up by the unusually bright moons.

The way he instantly found her hand when she perched on the edge of the bed seemed to warm her, even through the mildly uncomfortable conversation. 

And then he managed to make her laugh. Typical.

She couldn’t help kissing him gently, enjoying how warm his lips were against hers. Enjoying the way his stubble scratched her chin. It had grown darker over the last few days.

She pulled away to run her finger over it before feeling rather caught out when he asked if he should shave it. 

He was teasing her, trying to pull a preference from her but she wouldn’t budge.

And he said that street vendors give him more compliments than she did.

That had been the final goad.

He want to be complimented? She would compliment him alright.

She kissed him roughly pushing him down. And his small, breathy gasp made something hot coil in her stomach. His groan as she pulled his hair made her want more. 

More than she’d wanted in a long time.

He tilted his head back as she kissed and sucked her way down his jaw and neck, feeling his warm hands slide up her waist and back.

And then she forced herself to pull away from him.

He lay under her, squirming, trying to catch his breath. The gold chain around his neck glinted in the moonlight that fell across his face. She smirked as she rubbed her thumb over his collarbone, pulling up bumps on his skin.

She didn’t think street vendors did that.

He remained silent when she asked him. 

Evidently he agreed.

**✦ Followed ✦**

It was a relief when Poe turned away, going right. 

She hadn’t thought he would for a moment. But he did, and she sighed thankfully when she realised the person was still following her.

Avara took the next left, and then the next and the next… over and over, going in a circle around the block.

Until she turned a corner and stopped, waiting. Waiting for the footsteps to come close enough to be heard.

Before stepping back around the corner, blaster up.

And the figured gasped, jerking to a stop. They whipped out a blaster and fired wildly, obviously panicking. One bolt hit her in the chest, making her stumble back as it sparked against her beskar, causing her returning shot to go wide.

The figure turned and fled, and she followed, cursing furiously under her breath.

The person was fast, but she managed to keep up despite her armour. But it was starting to weigh on her. 

So she slowed down, adjusting the setting of her view in her helmet, illuminating the footprints she needed to follow. She continued, following the trail in a light jog.

And five minutes later she turned a corner to see the cloaked figure doubled over, leaning against a wall.

At the sight of her, the blaster came back up but she called out, raising her other hand before they could shoot.

“Wait! Consider this carefully. I have better aim than you. I’m wearing armour that will stop your shots. You are not,” she said slowly. “If you shoot, I’ll shoot back. Now you can drop the blaster, or you can try to shoot me again.”

The blaster dropped immediately and hands raised, pulling back their hood.

  
  


Avara’s blaster faltered.

It was a kid.

Just a kid.

He slowly began backing away before turning and darting away again.

“No, wait! Don’t-” 

The boy disappeared around another corner and she sighed, resigned. No point following him.

She walked forward and picked up the dropped blaster after holstering her own. 

Apart from the mud it had gathered when the boy dropped it, it was clean, shiny. Well looked after.

She tucked it into her belt and began walking back the way she had come, making her way to Jevi’s. 

Her thoughts whirled again. Darkly, this time.

She had almost killed a kid. She could have shot him, right through the head or chest.

The thought made her stomach churn.

  
  


It stayed with her for the next few hours.

**✦ Questions ✦**

Poe was in that soft mood. 

Maybe because he was trying to distract her.

She’d let him think that she had killed whoever was following them.

Maybe because she was ashamed.

  
  


He took her hand and she watched him play with it after removing her glove. It was soothing. Effortlessly pulling the tension from her shoulders.

He was frowning as he inspected her hands. He seemed to be particularly absorbed in her knuckles. They were marred after years of repeatedly splitting during fights, spars and training. The skin was discoloured in many parts, where the scar tissue had healed with a colour that didn’t match.

_His_ hands, on the other hand, were untouched, undamaged. Soft and gentle. The only sign that life had impacted his skin was a callus on the inside of his right thumb. From the throttle of his X-wing, she assumed.

Avara could see him thinking.

His curiosity was almost child-like. She loved it when he asked her random questions. No doubt there was one hovering in the back of his head now.

So she asked him and sure enough, he smiled and unhesitatingly asked the question.

And then another.

By this time she was grinning slightly.

She hadn’t thought about adopting in years. Then he suggested Naura and she laughed. She should have seen it coming. Of course he would suggest Naura.

  
  


All the while he played with her hand. His own were starting to lose their warmth in the cold air and she was tempted to tell him to put his gloves back on. But she let him continue, almost feeling selfish.

  
  


They returned to the mission.

And then he said ‘we’. When it should have been ‘you’.

As usual, he expected to come with her for the mission.

And she went cold because that couldn’t be allowed, she couldn’t let him follow her into danger, how could she?

But he was stubborn, so stubborn. And she knew why. She understood. But he couldn’t see past his fear of her getting hurt.

So her stomach churned for the second time that day. And she gave way, and said ok. She said he could follow her. That he could follow her into danger.

  
  


And then all at once, it seemed to slam into her as _in love_ slipped out of her mouth and she could feel the strength of it curling around her chest and she had to get away before he could see how scared she was.

How scared she was of losing someone else she loved. The thought of it happening again was suffocating.

She dragged off her cuirass as she stumbled downstairs, into the dark cantina and collapsed into a chair that felt too big as her chest continued to pound, heat rushing over her skin.

  
  


It was up to her to keep him safe. If she couldn’t stop him from following her, all she could do was keep him alive. Maybe this time she could do it.

**✦ Nightmare ✦**

It hadn’t been easy to fall asleep, even though she hadn’t slept the night before.

Being on the ship with him, being so close to him suddenly didn’t give her that contentment anymore. It was only fear now.

  
  
  


She was running. Screaming. Telling them to wait. To stop. She followed them right into it. She didn't care. She needed them to come back. She needed her to come back. It was an ambush, a snare.

She knew what was going to happen.

Her stomach burned as red flashed. But she kept running, staring at the blue armour that she never seemed able to touch. Never able to reach.

But… it wasn’t blue armour. It was a brown jacket. A mop of unruly black hair. Nothing blue.

Red flashed again and this time her knees hit the stone. A scream was building in her throat. She could feel it choking her.

He was…

She couldn’t… 

  
  


He was talking to her. But he was… wasn’t he… 

She couldn’t, she had to keep Poe away from her. She couldn’t let him get hurt.

  
  


But he already was. It was too easy to hear. The pain in his voice. Because of her.

So she called him back as she felt him about to leave. And he pulled her into him without hesitation.

She couldn't hurt him.

So she buried her face into his chest as she shook, clinging to the shirt he was wearing as if that was all she needed to do to keep him.

He was warm.

She fell asleep too quickly.

Her old blaster wound continued to sting.

  
  
  


**✦ Fevered ✦**

She told him. He wouldn’t have let up if she hadn’t.

She told him she was scared.

Scared of loving him. Of being in love.

And she told him that she loved him.

And he told her that he loved her too.

Happiness bloomed in her chest, but she could feel the edges of it curdling with her fear. It wasn’t pure. 

But despite it, she smiled at Bee when he brought her water at Poe’s request.

  
  


She let him baby her again. Truth be told, she loved it. Because he’d plaster himself to her side in constant company unless she was sleeping, or in the ‘fresher.

  
  


But she couldn’t let him sleep with her that night as she knew he’d get disturbed.

So she convinced him to sleep in his own cabin and let Bee watch her for the night.

She didn’t want to sleep, because she knew she’d end up dreaming again. Being sick always brought the past back with full force.

But she was too tired. And she couldn’t stop herself from drifting off.

And when Avara woke up, terror pounding in her chest, she managed to find herself quickly enough to stop Bee before he left to get Poe. She convinced him to let Poe sleep. 

So, the droid stayed close, humming at her gently. Comfortingly. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like the droid was babbling about something X-wing related. Poe had clearly rubbed off on Bee.

But she listened anyway, focusing on the beeps and whirs that were distracting her.

She was still half-awake when she heard her door slide open. Bee vibrated grumpily from next to her, and a second later, she felt the bed compress as Poe carefully sat on the edge. He pressed a cool hand to her forehead. He thought she was asleep.

He left a few seconds later before returning to her side. She almost jerked in surprise when something cold pressed to her forehead.

A wet towel.

She could barely stop herself from smiling as he sat there for longer, stroking her hair, unintentionally lulling her back to sleep.

**✦ Caught ✦**

His brows were pulled together in concentration as the turbolift door opened. It was such a common expression on his face, the eyebrows knitted together, producing that wrinkle in between them. He always looked so serious whenever that wrinkle appeared.

Then his quick glance at her drew her own focus back to what they were doing.

The mission. Right.

She hated how empty the hallways were. So, just as a precaution, she placed her small sensors against the walls, near the floor. They wouldn't be noticed.

She stared at him from where she was standing, watching him talk about Leia as he browsed through the files at the data station he was sitting at. His face was angled away but she could see his smile.

She didn’t want to tell him that a small orange light had just started blinking in the corner of her view in her helmet.

Telling her that a sensor had been tripped.

But she told him. She had to.

Then the second sensor tripped.

And his eyes widened as they stared at each other.

There was a ventilation grate in the far corner of the room and she darted to it, Bee following her.

No. It was too small for them. For him. She could fit if she removed her pauldrons.

But Bee could fit.

She snapped at Poe, unable to stop herself.

This was _exactly_ why she’d wanted to do the mission by herself. 

Fear. She wouldn’t have been feeling it if Poe wasn’t there. But he was and she had to come to terms with the fact that _they_ were going to get captured. Or killed.

Bee disappeared into the shaft. She didn’t know how, but the droid had looked _concerned_ as he looked at her. She hadn’t known droids could do that. Bee really was an unusual one.

Poe watched her from behind a data station as she placed one of her small charges by the door. His eyes were dark with worry.

He knew just as well as her what was going to happen.

She could hardly stop herself from wrapping around him for a time that felt far too short when she pulled away.

The door blew open and she got ready to detonate her charge. She watched Poe as he peeked around the edge of the data station before moving back to her side.

It soothed her to see a hard, determined glint in his eyes. He gave her a nod and she pressed her button. The room seemed to tremble with the explosion and she pressed against Poe for a second, waiting for the noise to stop.

When it did, she activated her shield and stepped out from behind her cover. The room was smokey but her helmet view was picking out where her targets were standing.

She knew they could see her too, with her blue shield lighting up the smoke in front of her. But she kept it on. If they were shooting at her, they weren’t shooting at Poe.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw red bolts shoot across the room, felling three of their attackers. Poe was a good shot.

But more and more were coming in and she staggered back to the data station as a shot hit her pauldron and another her vambrace. 

It sparked and she swore under her breath as she returned fire from above their cover. The vambrace had disarmed because of the damage. She wouldn’t be able to use her Birds now. Not until it was repaired.

A jolt of alarm ripped through her as red flashed across her view and knocked her backwards. A bolt had caught her in the head. For a second she thought she was dead, or dying.

Poe’s yelp reminded her that she was wearing a beskar helmet.

She sat up with his help, stifling a groan. Her head was ringing. But she lifted her blaster and continued anyway.

But dread was creeping in.

There were too many. And too close. She flinched as a shot whizzed past her visor, burning the wall and making her shift backwards towards Poe.

The firing stopped and her dread increased. They were wanted alive then.

They slowly stood up, facing their attackers. The woman who was talking to them was Fallen. Or, half-Fallen, more like. Her skin was light green, rather than the usual darker tones that were more common. And, she was wearing a red cloak. That sealed the deal.

_This_ was Fera Mignin.

They were searched for weapons then. They pulled off all her charges, ammo and knives. They’d done the same to Poe, though he only had that one extra knife. 

But they hadn’t found the dagger that remained in the sole of her boot.

The men searching her were more cautious, more so after she whacked a man into the floor when he tried to pull one of her vambraces off.

Mignin was only pleased. Her expression hadn’t changed that whole time. Avara wondered if their infiltration had been expected.

  
  


Poe figured out who the Fallen was relatively quickly.

Avara was proud of him. He was being _aggressively_ sarcastic. She loved it. She hadn't really seen this side to him before.

They _had_ been expected. Or at least watched. Mignin had known of a Mandalorian. A Mandalorian, which was her.

But Mignin slipped up. 

‘ _Two_ gifts’? It wasn’t two. The Resistance had sent _three_ scouts to Ord Mantell, before Poe and Avara. So there was something going on that the Falleen didn’t know.

The cuffs were unnecessarily tight behind her back, cutting into her wrists. 

She could see them walking Poe a few steps ahead of her. And she prayed they wouldn’t be taken to separate cells. She wouldn’t be able to manage that.

So she let out a soft, relieved breath when she was pushed into a bright room after Poe.

It wasn’t bright for long. The door closed and the lights switched off. Luckily she had her helmet.

She got him to switch on it’s light and took a good look around. It wasn’t big, but it could’ve been smaller. It was just plain walls, besides the couple steps that led to the door of the cell.

Poe sat down heavily, a hand rubbing his forehead for a second. The wrinkle between his eyebrows was deep with his frown as she awkwardly sat down next to him, without the use of her hands. He switched her light off then and pressed into her. She let her head drop onto his shoulder and felt it loosen.

At least they were together. Like he'd said.

**✦✦✦**

It seemed that she spoke too soon. Or _thought_ too soon, technically.

They came to take her and she tried to stop Poe from interrupting, knowing they’d hurt him. She could see them armed with batons that had shockers on the ends.

But he jumped at the guards holding her anyway, and all she could do was shout at him to get back. But one of them hit him from behind and blue electricity sparked over him.

His scream was the last thing she heard as the door snapped shut behind her. It seemed to rip the breath from her chest, and for a moment she was gasping as they dragged her away.

But she forced herself to appear expressionless. She felt exposed without her helmet, too used to relying on it to keep her feelings hidden.

Anger was taking over by the time they shoved her through another door, and this, she didn’t bother hiding.

Mignin was there along with another half-Falleen. 

Fera and Crul. The siblings.

The guards removed her cuffs, leaving her slightly confused. And then they left the room, confusing her even more.

“Take your armour off, please,” Fera said, voice deceptively mild.

Avara didn’t bother moving.

“Remove it, or your partner will suffer for your disobedience.”

Leverage. 

Avara was helpless.

But she’d try. Maybe she could…

“I’ll make you a deal.”

The two pairs of black eyes fixed on her.

Fera smiled.

“Go on, Mando.”

It was a risk. She was showing her hand.

“I will do what you want.”

“For…”

“For leaving my partner alone,” she replied, making sure to keep her face steady.

Fera grinned at that.

“Hmm, you care about him? I see why, he _does_ have a pretty face. As do you. A pretty pair.”

Avara struggled not to react.

“What do you think, brother?”

Crul was standing in front of a table looking at a datapad. He just glanced over with a shrug. 

It seemed like he left the thinking to his sister.

“Ok. Deal. But then we really only wanted to bother _you_. Your partner doesn’t seem like a fighter. Not like you. But if _you_ don’t comply, we’ll hurt him. Remember that.”

Avara just raised her chin slightly, in answer.

“Now take your armour _off_ , Mando.”

So she swallowed uneasily as she undid the buckles and pulled her cuirass over her head, before her thigh and shin guards.

She hesitated on her vambraces, but not long enough for Fera to notice. And cursed again, internally, as she wished she could use her Whistling Birds. Fera and Crul would’ve been dead in seconds.

But she twisted her vambraces off and set them carefully on the floor with the rest of her armour.

“That really is beautiful,” mumbles Fera, eyes fixed on Avara’s painted chest plate. “It’s beautiful armour, really. Beskar, isn’t it? Good thing you won’t be needing it from now on.”

Something icy entered her veins at the words but again, she kept it off her face.

They were going to kill her. Weren't they?

“I haven’t previously heard of Mandalorians joining the Resistance. Your people are usually just for hire, aren’t you?” said Fera, leaning against the table that Crul was standing at. “So I’m going to guess that your partner is Resistance, and you’ve been hired to keep him alive. Is that it?”

She didn’t reply.

“You will answer the questions we ask, Mandalorian.”

“Yes. I was hired.”

Fera nodded, looking satisfied.

“Do you know where the Resistance headquarters are?”

“No.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“Corellia.”

“What’s his name?”

“Iolo.”

It slipped out before she could search for a better name.

“Iolo, who?”

“Arana.”

Fera looked at her brother and Avara could’ve kicked herself. 

It was too easy for them to see if she was telling the truth with the man standing over a datapad.

“Iolo Arana, New Republic fleet until a year ago, defected to the Resistance,” Fera read after Crul passed her the datapad. “Makes sense. But this picture doesn’t match the pretty face I saw,” she continued, looking up to Avara with an entertained gleam in her eyes. “So either they have the wrong picture, or you’re lying.”

“Poe Dameron.”

Avara hated herself at that moment. She was weak, powerless. She had to lie better if she was to properly protect Poe and the Resistance.

“Hm, Poe Dameron. Yes, this face is familiar. He also defected from the New Republic I see. Thank you. That was helpful. The First Order will be pleased.”

It was hard to keep the fury off of her face. But Fera must’ve seen it anyway because she smiled again.

“Ok, that’s enough for now. Crul, do as you wish.”

  
  


And that's when Avara realised why she was here.

Crul set his datapad down and walked over to face her, lifting his fists up. 

She was just entertainment. Mere exercise.

  
  


He was tall and broad, like Penn. Which was almost good because Penn was the person she sparred against most.

He was slower but stronger than her. 

  
  


She ducked and dodged, and could see Crul’s frustration start to grow on his face. Annoyance that he hadn’t yet landed a punch.

He wasn’t as good as Penn, and that thought glowed happily in her chest.

Until something struck the back of her knee, pushing it forcefully into the floor without warning.

And Crul’s fist slammed into the side of her face and she sprawled into the floor, vision blurry.

Fera had been behind her.

Avara pushed herself up desperately, hauling herself up onto her feet as pain rushed through her head. She was unsteady as she backed away to the side, trying to keep both of the siblings in her view.

And then she remembered her dagger. The one in her boot. Crul threw another punch and Avara ducked it, pulling her knife out and slashing it in one swift movement.

But her perception was off with the blow to her head. 

And it barely nicked Crul’s forearm before her wrist was grabbed by Fera. The knife slipped out of her grasp in the tight grip, clattering to the floor, and her arm was twisted roughly, forcing out a cry as her knee pressed into the floor again.

Fera’s eyes were blazing with fury as they bore into her, inches away from her own.

“That’s _not_ allowed,” she hissed, shoving Avara.

She fell backwards, gasping as she cradled her arm.

And then Fera was sitting above her, pinning her down while Avara’s knife flashed in the light above her. She managed to jerk an arm free but another hand snared it, pressing it into the floor next to her head with unyielding strength.

Fera grasped a handful of her hair, holding Avara’s head still against the floor. Her knife drew closer and the edge pressed into her forehead, above her right eyebrow.

“I’ve heard this is a sensitive place for humans. Adequate punishment I think.”

Avara couldn’t manage to formulate a response before the blade dug in.

She screamed, feeling the knife drag sideways, cutting through her skin.

But it pulled away quicker than she’d thought it would and the scream died in her throat, leaving her trembling as she rolled onto her side and tried to push herself up again. 

Avara could see blood dripping onto the floor under her, feeling the warm liquid trickling down her face, making her raise a hand to wipe it out of her eyes.

Something sharp stabbed into her leg and she gasped jerking away. Fera was holding a hypno-syringe.

Her legs buckled.

She didn’t remember hitting the floor.

**✦✦✦**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice longer chapter for you guys :)
> 
> [If you intend to continue reading this series after this work, I suggest subscribing to the series as you'll get an email telling you when I post the next work.]
> 
> I'd rather say this now than later (I don't wanna spoil the mood for the endings of the next chapters) but thank you so much to the group of you that have left kudos and comments and bookmarked and subscribed. I'm so fucking grateful, really. It's been my main source of motivation, I really didn't expect to go so far with this small idea I had in my head five months ago.  
> So thank you for sticking around with me :) ❤️  
> -Iye


	41. Shine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Violence*

***

The first thing Poe noticed was the light. And then how dry his throat was.

He sat up, blinking, and turned to the door.

Fera was standing there, leaning against the open doorway, looking vaguely amused. 

Why, he didn’t know.

All he could feel was anger seeping into him, waking him up. He just stared at her, willing his face to be expressionless, cold.

“Are you going to tell me anything about the Resistance? Maybe where your headquarters are, _Poe_? Or should we borrow your friend for another night?”

Something must’ve shown on his face, some sliver of panic or fear, because she grinned smugly.

“She put up quite a fight. Admirable. I always like the fighters. But they always fight less and less over time.”

His chest tightened.

“How about I just leave the light on? I’ll let you two be alone for a while. Give you some privacy.”

She grinned again, as if amused at her own words, and the door closed as she backed out.

The light remained on, as Fera said it would. 

And he knew why.

He was afraid to look down. To look at Avara.

But he did, and he just felt hollow.

He’d felt the blood, but seeing it was…

Poe carefully reached out to run his fingers over her hair. 

It was now crusty and stiff, caked with the blood that had now dried. It came from a deep cut above her eyebrow. 

He was almost afraid to touch her anywhere else. 

Her face was bruised badly. Even her knuckles. She had fought.

He buried his face into his shaking hands feeling his eyes beginning to sting. 

He was frustrated and angry and so hopeless. He couldn’t help her at all, he couldn’t even-

“Poe?”

It was a weak little breath that may or may not have been his name, but the sound of it made his eyes fly open.

Her eyelashes were fluttering, brow furrowing.

“Hey,” he gasped. “Ava- wait don’t move! You’re hurt!”

She was trying to push herself up. 

He grabbed her shoulder, trying to keep her still.

“Hey, slow down.”

“I’m fine,” she muttered. “Help me sit up.”

“What? No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

But she still had a hand under her, prying herself off the ground.

“Avara,” he sighed, knowing he couldn’t stop her.

So he lifted his arms and lowered them, encircling her and carefully pulled towards him. 

She slumped into his chest heavily, gasping and he pressed his lips to her dried hair, trying to soothe her.

“You shouldn’t move until we figure out how badly hurt you are,” he whispered, swallowing thickly, stroking her cheek as best he could with bound wrists. 

“Was that Fera?”

“Yeah. Did she do this to you?” he whispered, letting his forehead rest on her head.

“Both- both of them.”

“The brother? Crul?”

She nodded, eyes still closed.

“You have to- have to let them.”

Her voice was slightly slurred. Maybe she'd been drugged.

The thought made him clench his fists.

“What?” he gasped, going rigid. “ _Let_ them? Let them… hurt you?”

She squirmed against his chest slightly, tilting her head up to look at him.

“Poe-”

“ _No_. That’s too far. You can’t ask that of me,” he replied tightly, mouth set in a hard line as he glared down at her.

She was squinting as she tried to look up at him. The lights were too bright for her. 

Seeing the green in her irises tightened his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut, drawing her even closer.

“I’m sorry.”

He frowned, shaking his head slightly.

“No, for what?”

“I told them your name.”

“I don’t care,” he breathed. “I don’t care.”

He felt her cold fingertips run down the side of his neck before picking at the chain he wore. She tugged on it, pulling the ring out from under his shirt. 

Poe opened his eyes, watching as she ran her fingers over the smooth metal band.

“Your mother’s.”

He nodded.

“What was her name?”

“Shara,” he murmured. “Shara Bey.”

“Shara,” she echoed, before smiling at the ring.

Emotion thickened his throat.

“She would’ve liked you.”

“Shara?”

He nodded.

“I would’ve liked to meet her. I’d ask her about all the little Poe stories.”

He huffed, the corners of his mouth twitching up. 

“Tell me a story from when you were young.”

“You tell me one first,” she retorted.

“Ok,” he sighed, thinking for a moment.

“I was about thirteen I think. There was a party at night, at a friend’s house, all the kids I knew would be there. My dad had already said I wasn’t allowed to go, but a friend had convinced me to sneak out of the house during the night.”

Avara’s eyes were closed but she was smiling faintly. 

He knew she was listening.

“It was pretty far off, I guess. This friend’s house, I mean.”

She nodded.

“So I couldn’t walk there. I ended up getting on my dad’s speeder bike, which, uh, coincidentally had a broken front light.”

“ _Di’kut_ ,” she whispered, almost to herself, her smile growing wider.

“Yeah. I managed about-”

The cell door hissed open, making them both flinch, Poe stopping mid-sentence.

He’d almost forgotten he was in a cell. The temperature seemed to drop. 

Avara squirmed in Poe’s arms, sitting more upright to face the visitors, no longer leaning on him.

The visitors being Fera and another Falleen.

Crul.

Poe narrowed his eyes as the siblings studied them.

“Are they…” began Crul softly, out of the corner of his mouth.

“Yes. I think so,” Fera replied, smirking. “I didn’t realise we had caught ourselves a couple.”

Avara stiffened and Poe just tightened his arms around her.

“So, have you decided to give us any information? Or are we borrowing the Mando again?” snapped Fera.

“You’re not taking her,” Poe retorted.

“Don’t be stupid,” Avara breathed to him.

“If you take her, you have to take me as well,” he growled, ignoring Avara.

“No,” she hissed.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested, but sure, you can come watch,” Fera countered, looking thoughtful.

“No,” muttered Crul, speaking only for his sister, but loud enough to be heard by Poe and Avara. “No, he’ll just make unnecessary noise.”

“We could get more though…”

Poe’s skin was prickling, hearing them discuss him and Avara as if they weren’t there.

“No. Next time maybe.”

Fera pursed her lips but nodded.

“Ok.”

She turned back to the partners, looking at Poe.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. Maybe next time,” she said, actually looking almost disappointed. “C’mon Mando, let’s get moving.”

Avara scowled but began to move, about to stand up but Poe grabbed her holding her in place.

“No,” he snarled, voice hoarse. “No, you’re not taking her again.”

“Let go,” Avara gasped desperately, twisting, trying to free herself as she looked at Poe. “Please, let go, don’t-”

She broke off as Crul stalked forward, beady eyes fixed on him.

Poe stared back, going rigid, partly in determination, partly in fear.

Avara resumed her struggling, growing more panicked.

“Poe, _let go_! Let me go!”

Crul stopped, standing right above him, gazing down. Poe met his gaze as Avara continued to try to break free.

“Let go.”

The words were soft, directed purely at Poe.

“No.”

The Falleen’s eyes hardened.

“Let me go, please! _Poe-_ No, no don’t- you touch him and I’ll kill you, _I swear I’ll kill you-_ don’t touch him- _don’t touch him_!”

Her words heightened into a scream, searing into Poe’s memory as Crul grabbed him by the hair, wrenching upwards. 

He dragged him backwards, causing Poe to cry out and almost let Avara go on instinct.

His fingers scrabbled on her shoulder for purchase as she tried to pull away, closing around her shirt.

And for a brief moment, everyone and everything seemed to freeze and go silent.

Because the next noise he heard was Fera laughing, as Poe let go to the sound of fabric ripping.

Crul roughly tossed him into the wall where he immediately made to stand up. 

But he was kicked down. Over and over.

Until his chest and stomach were burning. Until Avara’s screaming was ringing ferociously in his ears.

The cell lights switched off abruptly.

***

Poe’s eyes opened up to silence.

No. _Silence_? 

That wasn’t right. They were trying to take her, take Avara, to hurt her and…

And he couldn’t stop them.

Didn’t stop them.

The cell was silent. And dark.

She was already gone.

He let her go.

He had let her go.

  
  


He couldn't stop the harsh sobs shook through him, making his chest ache. 

But the pain was nothing. Nothing compared to what he knew she was getting.

When he ran out of tears, he tried to fall asleep. He wanted to escape it. He didn’t want to have to think about what he’d done.

But it was too cold to sleep. 

So he just curled up there, shivering.

***

When light flooded the room, he forced himself to sit up. He stared numbly as guards hauled her in.

And the lights switched off.

Poe slumped back against the wall, clenching his trembling fists.

He thought she was unconscious again.

So when he heard a short dragging sound before a whimper, he jerked his head up, gazing at the patch of darkness that she was in. 

He crawled forward slowly, reaching out.

For a brief second his fingers brushed against cloth but she pulled away with a sharp gasp, flinching from his touch.

“It’s me, it’s me,” he whispered.

For a long moment, he thought she hadn’t heard him because there was no reply.

“Poe?”

He shuddered at the sound of her voice, something like relief and guilt ripping through him.

“Yeah,” he choked out. “Yeah, it’s me.”

She must’ve heard his shaky breaths because a hand clutched his.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, bringing the hand up to rest his chin on it. “I’m sorry, I tried to- to stop-”

“Poe, I didn’t _want_ you to stop them. He hurt you-”

“I don’t care! They hurt you _more_. I had to stop them-”

“ _No_! You don’t understand! You-” she cut off, and he heard her take a slow breath.

“Poe,” she began again, slowly. “You’re not going to be able to stop them from doing what they want. I don’t want you pointlessly getting hurt trying to stop it. You _won’t_ be able to stop it. And that’s not your fault,” she said, voice sharpening as she tried to force emotion out of it.

“No, I can’t just-”

“Finish that story.”

“Avara-”

“ _Please_.”

So he swallowed back some wail that was sitting in the back of his throat as his eyes grew hot.

“The speeder bike had a broken front light,” he whispered, unable to raise his voice. “It wasn’t working. I managed to get about twenty meters away from the house before I crashed into the tree.”

He heard a soft, amused groan and the tears spilled over. 

“I knocked myself out,” he managed to finish, despite his voice shaking. 

There was a soft, amused sound and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“The tree? You mean that Force tree?”

“Yeah.”

She chuckled again. 

“ _Di’kut_ ,” she muttered again, and cold fingertips found his face, brushing his damp cheeks.

“Where are you hurt?” he murmured, remembering her wince after they’d brought her back.

“Just my ribs.”

“How bad?”

“Uh,” she began, clearly hesitating. “...broken? Just one though,” she continued hurriedly at the sound of his sharp inhale. “Are you- your chest- he just kept kicking you-”

“I’m ok. It hurts, but it’s just bruised.”

Which wasn't technically a lie. But he was sure there was something hurt more than just bruising. He had to be careful not to breathe too deeply because if he did, there was a sharp pain in his upper chest.

  
  


Quick footsteps sounded from outside and he held his breath, jerking his head up to watch for the door. Preparing for the worst to happen again.

It slid open and Poe couldn’t stop himself from ducking his head under the lights again.

  
  


“You, are you two Resistance? They said you were, but I needed to come and see for myself.”

He squinted at the figure standing on the steps to the cell.

“Wait… you’re Poe Dameron. Aren’t you?”

“And you’re the last scout,” Avara said, propping herself up onto her elbows. Something hopeful was shining in her eyes. “The third one.”

“Yeah. I’m Meelo.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> Di'kut - idiot, fool
> 
> [100k words?? Wtf have I done, jeez]


	42. Quenched

***

It was the scout. The scout that they’d expected. Standing at the door of their cell, looking down at them. Like some heroic saviour.

Poe could've laughed in glee.

“I’m Meelo. Meelo Dromef.”

“You here to rescue us?” Poe asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“No. But I am going to help you escape. I have their trust and I’m learning a lot now.”

“Do you have any water?” Avara questioned, clearly eyeing the man’s bag.

“Oh,” he grunted, following her gaze. “Yes, of course.”

He pulled a large flask out and handed it to her quickly, flicking a glance over his shoulder.

Instantly she passed it to Poe who pushed it back at her.

“You first.”

“Poe, I can _hear_ how dry your throat is.”

“Listen, I can’t stay long. I don’t know when I’ll get my next chance to come down here. It’s pretty well guarded most of the time.”

“Well, what can we expect from you? How will you help us?” Avara asked as Poe helped her lift her head to the bottle. 

“I’ll sneak you out, back to the surface. Then you’ll have to get to your ship, wherever it is. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we can.”

Meelo glanced over his shoulder again. He looked fearful.

“I have to go now. I’ll be back soon.” 

He started to shuffle back up the steps when Poe called to him.

“Hey, wait! Take this,” he hissed, shaking the water flask before tipping it to his lips.

It was the best thing he ever tasted. He moaned as he gulped the cool liquid, and Avara tugged on his sleeve.

“Not too fast, Poe. You can’t afford to throw it up.”

So he slowed down his sips. When he was done he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave the bottle back to Meelo.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding at the scout.

He vanished and the cell was thrown into darkness again.

And Poe leaned sideways into the wall with a satisfied sigh.

For the first time since they had taken her, he felt hopeful.

“We’re getting out of here.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. 

He could hear a smile in her voice.

“Yeah, we are.”

Both wide awake with only time on their hands, they had nothing else to do but talk.

“I hope Bee is doing ok.”

“I know he’s fine. He seems like a child a lot of the time but he is surprisingly responsible.”

“Believe it or not, I figured that out the day I met him.”

“What? No, you didn’t,” he replied incredulously.

“He’s more responsible than _you_.”

“That’s not true.”

“Uh, remember when you were packing that day? Your room was so messy. And it was little Bee that was trying to clear it up, as _you_ were tripping over your own clothes.”

Poe huffed, remembering. Then he grinned.

“I was shirtless. And you were blushing real hard.”

“For good reason.”

“Oh, was that a compliment?” he gasped mockingly.

“No! I _barely_ knew you. I didn’t want to see some random person half-naked.”

He sighed again, rolling his eyes to himself.

“Fair. That’s fair.”

Avara hummed at him.

It had taken him a while to figure it out. Because her ribs were broken it hurt her to laugh or chuckle. So he’d realised that she was just humming in replacement.

Her head was on his lap, and his fingers in her hair. It was still dry and crusty from the blood that had soaked it but he stroked it anyway.

“Have you broken ribs before?”

“Yeah, couple times,” she murmured. 

“How?”

“One of my father’s bounties threw me into a pillar one time. I was trying to stop him.”

Poe cringed.

“Ow. What was Din’s reaction? I guess he wasn’t happy.”

“Ha. No, he really wasn’t. But the guy was lucky, he didn’t have to face Papa for long. He was in carbonite less than a minute later.”

“Maker, your father is terrifying,” Poe hissed, receiving a little laugh replacement from Avara.

“When was the next time they broke?”

“Penn, in one of our quarterstaff fights. He whacked me right in the chest.”

“Shit. You get injured a lot, huh?”

“Perks of being a Mandalorian.”

Poe laughed, tugging a lock of her hair teasingly.

“Yes, I see that.”

  
  


He leaned back against the wall, somehow feeling relaxed.

It was too easy to forget that he was in a cell when it was just them, talking.

  
  


“Hey,” he murmured, fingers still carding through her curls. “Teach me some more Mando’a.”

There was a pause.

She was surprised at the request.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything.”

“Uh, ok. Give me words.”

He thought for a second.

“Family.”

“ _Aliit_.”

“Fight.”

“ _Akaani_.”

“X-wing.”

“ _Sakagal_. I’m actually surprised we have a specific word for it.”

“It’s special, that’s why. Beautiful.”

“ _Mesh’la_.”

He grinned as he thought of the next word.

“Cute.”

She sighed slightly.

“Aha, you remember, do you?” he teased.

“ _Copikla_. Yes, of course I remember.”

“My one and only compliment from you.”

“It’s a word we really only use for babies, just putting that out there.”

He hesitated.

“I don’t care, I’m taking it. It counts.”

She hummed.

Poe touched her face, brushing over her cheeks.

She was smiling.

“Any more words you want to know?”

“Uh… love.”

She paused, not replying immediately.

“We don’t actually have a word for love,” she said softly.

“Wait, what? How come? How do you say it then?”

“There are a few ways. For example, we usually say ‘I love you’ with _ni kar'tayli gar darasuum_.”

“And that means…”

“‘ _Kar'tayli_ _’_ means to know, or to hold in the heart. And ‘ _darasuum_ _’_ means eternally. Forever.”

“So it says ‘I hold you in my heart forever’.”

“Yes.”

He let the words draw some unbelieving smile onto his face.

Beautiful.

“I like that,” he whispered.

Fingers brushed his neck and he flinched automatically with a small hiss.

“Cold!”

“ _Poe_ ,” she sighed. 

“They’re kriffin’ _ice_ , that’s what they are. Gimme,” he grumbled, flapping his hand around in the darkness to grab hers. 

He brought the offending fingers up to his mouth, cupping them in his warmer hands to puff hot air.

“How do you say ‘I love you’ again?” he asked after a second, almost shyly.

She told him with a smile in her voice, and he repeated it after her until he got it right.

“What are your plans for it? Planning to seduce more Mandalorians?”

“Hm, maybe. Or maybe just someone who knows a lot of languages. That would work too.”

His arm got a swat and he giggled, grabbing her hand again before going serious.

“No. No, just for you.”

Her grip on his fingers tightened and he rested his forehead on the back of her hand, the cold skin, soothing against his.

“Aren’t you scared?” he whispered, unease suddenly pricking at him.

“A little.”

“Only a little?”

“We’re going to escape, remember? Meelo will help us. We’ll be back on base in no time.”

“But aren't you scared of them hurting you more?” he asked, frowning.

“I’m not scared of them hurting me.”

Something cold slipped into his head, trickling down his spine. Something to do with the way she had lightly stressed the last word of that sentence.

His grasp loosened on her hand.

“Avara,” he said slowly. “Why are they only hurting _you_? Why don’t they take me too?”

There was no reply.

“Why? Did you- What did you do?” he asked, voice rising with sudden desperation.

She wouldn’t.

No, she _would_.

He fumbled around the room for her helmet and switched the torch on. He needed to see her face.

She wasn't looking at him.

“What did you do? You- you made some sort of deal with them?”

“Poe-” she began, pushing herself up slowly.

But he groaned, pressing his fists into his eyes as they shook. 

He should've guessed. How did he not see it before? How did he not realise she would come up with some horrible agreement to keep him out of harm’s way?

“What are you telling them?”

“Poe, no, I-”

“Are you giving them Resistance information? Did-”

“ _What_? No, I would n-”

  
  


He’d been so focused on her and what he had just realised, he didn’t even hear any approaching footsteps from outside.

Neither of them did.

The door slid open, throwing the room into brightness, making them both wince, cutting his words off.

It was a group of guards. 

“Time to go,” snapped one of them as two slipped in to haul Avara to her feet. 

Her face twisted in pain as they roughly pulled her up. 

Poe followed, scrambling to his feet.

“You’re coming too,” the guard said to him as another moved towards him.

Avara shot him some hurt, distressed look over her shoulder as they began to lead her out, Poe following right behind.

***

Fera and her brother were already in the room that Avara and Poe were brought to. They briefly removed his binders from a wrist before re-cuffing him behind his back, around a metal loop that was secured firmly into the wall. He pulled on it, testing its strength. His wrists would break before that loop came out, that was for sure.

Avara stayed without shackles, standing in the middle of the room, under the only light. She looked vulnerable, slightly hunched over most likely because of her broken rib. 

The siblings were at a table opposite. Fera was sitting on it, swinging her dangling legs back and forth as she studied a silver dagger with a curved blade. 

Crul had two similar knives, Poe saw when the Fallen turned around. He tossed one of them at Avara which she caught. She examined it as Crul approached her slowly. These weren’t curved like the one Fera had.

Something cold was settling into Poe.

It was obvious what they were going to do. 

“Avara,” he breathed, staring at her as she shifted back, preparing to square up as Crul did the same.

He willed his partner to look at him, but it was as if he wasn’t even there. Her eyes were focused on the Falleen in front of her, face expressionless. There was some anger, no, _rage_ , glinting in her eyes.

Fera remained sitting on the table, eyes fixed beadily on her brother and Avara.

  
  


Poe clenched his fists, leaning forward as Crul lunged at Avara.

His throat tightened and he flinched as she staggered back into the wall, narrowly avoiding a slash to her stomach and ducking out of the way.

She was fast, but her rib was clearly affecting her, breathing through gritted teeth. 

Crul attacked again, Poe holding his breath.

Avara was completely on the defensive. She didn’t have the strength to do otherwise. It was all she could do to avoid his blade.

He kept forcing her back, keeping her pinned against a wall making it harder for her to move. But she’d always slip through somehow, making her way back into empty space.

She sidestepped, leaning away from a swipe and using her dagger to knock aside another, just barely, making Poe heave a shaky breath. 

He was straining against his bonds. The metal was biting into his wrists but he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t look away.

  
  


They parted again, Avara stepping back, panting. He saw her fleetingly press a hand to her chest. Her face was pale and he knew it wasn’t just the light.

But she was thinking, frowning slightly as she watched her opponent.

And then hard determination set into her gaze as he charged at her again.

Her movement had changed. She was now only moving when she absolutely needed to, her motion sharp and concise.

And it still wasn’t enough.

She struck out at him but it only caught the front of his shirt. And he brought his own knife up, and his blade curled into her forearm. The dagger fell out of her hand as a strangled cry slipped out from her throat.

Poe felt a scream build in his chest as he watched her bend over her injured arm, backing away as blood trailed onto the grey floor.

Crul glanced at his sister who nodded gleefully and said something in a language Poe didn’t know. Her eyes were gleaming. She looked to Poe then.

“You know, you can stop this, Sweetheart," she called to him. "Tell us where your headquarters are. Tell us and we’ll stop hurting your partner."

He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Avara, automatically asking her opinion. Habit.

She wasn’t looking at him, but her head was shaking very slightly.

So he clenched his fists and glared back at Fera, silent.

And Crul continued forward, moving towards Avara, knife glinting dangerously.

  
  


Words finally broke out of him.

“No! No, don’t, _don’t_ ,” Poe cried, jerking his hands ruthlessly as if that would free him and let him interrupt. 

It would have no impact, he knew. He couldn’t do anything.

Fera had said to pick the Resistance or Avara. And he couldn't... he couldn't pick one.

So all he could do was watch as she straightened up readying herself as best she could for Crul’s attack.

She dodged more of his slices, aiming a few of her own punches, now that she had no knife.

Her hits made contact, making Crul grunt, but she was weakening.

His slashes continued to draw more and more blood, painting the floor with red drops.

“ _Please_! Stop…”

Poe’s tears followed her blood to the ground as he trembled and flinched every time she’d gasp from a fresh cut.

_Please… no…_

  
  


And Avara stumbled back, crashing into the wall.

Poe could see the exhaustion on her face, the sheen of sweat on her skin.

She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. Preparing herself.

_no…_

  
  


And he screamed as the knife sunk into her.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue tense silence...*


	43. Snuffed

***

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears. He could hardly see anything, the tears making his vision blurry.

But he could see her. Just about.

She was leaning against the wall, still somehow standing. The knife hilt was jutting out of her abdomen. She was staring at it, frozen. 

He let his chin hit his chest as he shuddered, squeezing his eyes. He was still trying to pull away from the wall, twisting his hands. His wrists were burning now, but he really couldn’t care. They were going numb anyway.

This couldn’t be happening.

He had to stiffen his shoulders to hold back a sob.

  
  


Crul turned away from Avara, clearly done. Even Fera was looking down at a datapad, unconcerned.

Poe wanted to scream at them. He wanted to… He wanted to _hurt them_. Like they hurt her. He wanted them to feel her pain. _His_ pain.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything.

  
  


And in the corner of his eye, Avara moved.

Unnoticed by Crul. Or Fera.

Her hand closed around the hilt in her stomach. 

He wanted to cry out, tell her not to pull it out. But the words stuck in his throat and he watched as she slid it out, face contorting silently with agony. Blood began to stream out, soaking her shirt.

And her eyes raised to fix on Crul. On his back, which was turned so _dismissively_ to her.

Poe went rigid, shaking his head, almost about to call out as he saw what Avara was going to do.

No, she shouldn't, she needed to stay where she was or they'd kill her-

But they were going to kill her anyway.

She knew that. He knew she knew.

It hit him. She had _allowed_ the blade into her. She needed it. For this.

Crul had thought that the fight was over, but she was about to say otherwise.

So Poe's eyes just widened, as she stepped forward and raised the knife above her head, letting out a yell as she put as much force behind her strike as she could.

Fera spun around at the shout, just in time to see the knife pierce Crul’s neck, at the base of his ridged skull.

He sucked in a breath as Crul collapsed without a single sound, apprehension tightening his chest. Avara staggered sideways, falling to her knees, hands pressed to her wound.

Fera ran forward with a cry, dropping to her knees.

She said something desperate in another language, pulling her brother’s limp body and rolling him over.

He was dead.

The Falleen screamed. The anguish in her voice was obvious.

  
  


Avara had dragged herself to the wall and slumped against it, just meters from Poe. He wanted to reach out to her, to gather her into his arms. As if that would do anything to stop the blood. To save her.

She was staring at Fera. 

There was no remorse, no pity on her face. Only hard indifference.

And Fera lifted her head to stare at her, eyes dull.

“You’ll pay…” she whispered. She was shaking with grief.

“I _said-_ ” Avara began, voice hoarse but eyes burning. “I _warned_ him. I promised.”

And Poe flinched. He remembered.

It echoed in the back of his mind, her screams as Crul pulled Poe away from her.

Fear curdled in his gut as Fera’s gaze didn’t waver.

“You’ll pay,” she snarled again, slowly raising. 

That curved knife was in her hands.

“Do your worst,” Avara muttered, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I’m half dead anyway.”

“ _No_ , leave her alone,” croaked Poe as his fear heightened, suddenly finding his words again. “Leave her _alone_.”

Avara’s eyes opened as Fera walked closer. And they widened in panic.

She wasn’t walking towards her. 

She was walking towards Poe.

He sucked in a gasp as she gripped a handful of his hair and pushed his head back, exposing his neck as Avara cried out.

“No, _wait_ , he hasn’t done anything!”

Poe could hear his partner’s harsh breaths as she shifted on the floor.

“ _I_ killed your brother. Not him!”

He closed his eyes as a cold blade pressed into his neck, holding his breath, waiting.

“Wait! The First Order will need him _alive_. You can’t- can’t kill him,” Avara said from his left, the words struggling from her.

He could hear the sheer desperation and exhaustion in her voice.

The blade that had just begun to cut through his skin, pulling a cry from his mouth, stopped pushing. 

And it pulled away completely, Fera letting go of his hair.

She looked furious, glaring at him as if what Avara had pointed out was his fault.

He looked at Avara, gasping. She had obvious relief trickling onto her face as she let herself sag back onto the floor. She’d been trying to stand. Her skin was white. He could see her hands trembling slightly.

He'd been sure that it was over for him.

“Your death will be slow,” Fera said softly, slowly meeting Avara’s gaze. 

And she turned away stiffly, vanishing from the room, still tightly holding her knife.

  
  


Poe moaned as he doubled over, overwhelmed. He was still shaking.

He lifted his head to his partner.

She was still slouched against the wall, eyes closed. Her breathing was getting shallow. 

Fear was writhing in his gut, like a trapped inferno.

“Avara? Hey, Avara?”

He had to say her name several times before she seemed to hear it and opened her eyes. They were unfocused but they fixed on him. 

It was the first time she had met his eyes since they’d been dragged out of their cell.

“Poe.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me.”

He stared at her, waiting for a moment as she frowned slightly, searching for her words.

“The scout,” she mumbled. “He’ll get you out.”

Poe shook his head, horror crawling up his throat.

“Not without you,” he rasped.

“Poe. I’m done.”

“No, I won’t-”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, _please,_ you-”

The door swished open and he flinched, whipping his head around to see a group of guards walk in. One of them approached him with a syringe.

Panic flared in him and he jerked against his binders, thrashing desperately.

“No! _No_ , don’t-”

The needle was stabbed painfully into his thigh and he could feel the drug weighing him down instantly.

His eyes sought hers, and she watched as he struggled to keep his head up.

_No…_

Her eyes were gentle, calm. 

He didn't know why. How could she be calm?

He tried to call out to her. But he didn’t have any strength left.

His vision flickered to black.

_Avara_.

  
  


"Poe, it’s ok. _It’s ok..._

✧✧✧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue more nervous silence from me*


	44. extinguished

✧✧✧

His limbs were heavy. Heavier than they should be, he knew.

The floor was cold, leeching all the warmth from him. He didn’t know how long it had been. Since he last saw her. He couldn’t know. It was so dark.

  
  


Slumped against the wall, with her hands pressed to her stomach, trying to slow the bleeding. Face pale, shining with a thin layer of sweat.

Eyes soft.

  
  


Slowly, he pushed himself up. He felt weak. He was weak. His stomach kept cramping painfully. No food tended to do that, he’d heard.

If he could figure out how he was going to get out, he could rescue her. Get her out. He just had to figure out how.

Fera had said that she was going to- 

-going to kill Avara slowly. It was hard to think about.

But that meant she could still be alive. She _was_ still alive. He knew.

_He hoped._

As Poe folded his legs under him, his knee knocked against something. He reached out and his fingers brushed cold, smooth metal.

Sobs threatened to spill out of him again but he forced them down, struggling to keep his head, struggling not to lose himself to the terror again.

He clutched the helmet to his chest. After they had drugged him, they hadn’t put his cuffs back on. His wrists hurt whenever he tried to move them.

He traced the edges and ridges. The smooth, curved cheeks, the top of the visor. It was soothing. It calmed him somehow. A piece of her, still there, with him.

Poe sat there, completely still, resting his forehead on the helmet. 

He didn’t know for how long. He was shivering. The metal was cold, but he kept it close anyway.

  
  


His throat was dry and scratchy. Maybe because he’d been screaming. Maybe because he hadn’t had water. Maybe both. Probably both.

When he had woken up alone, back in their cell, he’d flung himself at the door, slamming on it, screaming. Asking for her.

Until his voice gave out. Until his exhaustion and weakness forced him back to sleep.

No one had come, no footsteps, no noise. Nothing. As if they had forgotten he was there. Maybe they had.

Or maybe they were focusing on her.

Once again she was keeping him safe.

  
  


He closed his eyes again. Not that it made any difference in this darkness. It was hard to think clearly. Everything hurt.

✧✧✧

The door opened without warning and he automatically hunched over even more than he already was, waiting, preparing for someone to drag him out, for someone to pull her helmet away from him.

But no one touched him.

“Dameron? Hey! Dameron!”

Poe lifted his head slowly, squinting at the person standing in the doorway.

“Dameron, it’s time. This is your opening. Come on!”

A little spark of hope lit inside Poe’s chest. 

It was the scout. Meelo.

“Avara,” he mumbled, moving to stand. It was hard. His muscles were stiff.

“What?”

“My partner. We have to find her.”

“What? No, you have to go _now_ , there’s no time-”

“I need to get my partner.”

“Listen, Fera is planning to sell you to the First Order! This is your _only_ chance of getting out.”

Poe frowned. Was Meelo not hearing him?

“My partner,” he said, making sure he spoke louder. “We need to-”

“No, aren’t you listening? There’s no time!”

“I’m _not_ leaving without her,” he whispered.

Meelo’s expression seemed to harden.

“She’s dead.”

“No, she-”

“Listen, it’s been almost _four days_ since your partner killed Crul.”

Four days? No, that couldn’t be right.

“Your partner is dead.”

The floor swooped and Poe closed his tired eyes.

“No.”

When he opened his eyes, Meelo’s face was inches from his. Fingers were digging into his upper arms. Seeing Poe look at him, he began to pull him towards the door.

“Fera is not here at the moment which is why now is the best time to leave. Almost no one is here.”

Poe struggled weakly, trying to pull away. Whatever Meelo was saying, it didn’t matter to him. 

But the grip on him tightened and he began hauling Poe through the corridors. And he was too weak to pull away.

“I need to get my partner,” he tried again, voice ragged with his stumbling steps. “ _Please_.”

They stopped moving and for a second he actually thought they were going to make a plan to find Avara.

But Meelo just shook him slightly.

“ _Listen_ ,” he hissed. “Your partner is _gone_. I’m sorry. You need to get back to D’Qar. You need to get back to your ship, wherever it is. Do you hear me? You’re delirious. You need to _focus_.”

And they continued onwards, Poe’s thoughts swirling as sluggishly as his movement.

Avara couldn’t be gone. It couldn’t have been four days already. Could it? Was four days slow enough for Fera? 

No, he couldn’t lose her. That couldn’t-

Meelo pushed him into a small, brightly lit room. The lights were hurting Poe’s eyes.

The floor jolted and he could feel the wall he was leaning against vibrating.

The turbolift.

No, they were going the wrong way-

“Hey, _hey_! Look at me.”

Poe looked at him.

Sharp, almost distant eyes gazed back at him, peering into his soul. Draining him of hope.

“You need to get to D’Qar. Take your ship and get back to the base. Do you understand?”

He just stared at Meelo.

“Dameron!”

He swallowed and nodded.

The movement hurt in more than one way. 

“Where are you going to go?”

“My ship,” he said softly. He felt numb. This wasn’t right. “D’Qar.”

“Good.”

The lift shuddered to a stop and Meelo clambered out through the panel before pulling Poe through. And he was nudged towards the large door at the far side of the room.

“Go! _Run_!”

✧✧✧

Poe didn’t know how he had the energy to stumble through the streets. It felt wrong.

The thick mud pulled at his boots, trying to hold him back. Loose stones made him trip and lose his balance even more. But he kept moving. 

And all the while, it felt wrong, feeling the sun on his head, warming his hair. The metal burned in his hands.

He knew eyes were tracking him as he moved. People’s heads turning to stare at him. 

He was vaguely aware of someone approaching him, offering something. Their voice was kind, but he flinched away.

  
  


It was some blind memory that got him there. To the _Ember_. He staggered up the ramp.

And BB-8 squealed happily at seeing him.

  
  


Before asking a question.

The question felt like an icy rod that was being pushed through his chest. So he ignored it, continuing up to the cockpit.

Pure muscle memory guided the ship into the atmosphere. And then into hyperspace. 

And then it made him stand up and turn, to walk down to his cabin.

  
  


But his eyes flicked down to the helmet he had dropped as he had entered.

And his knees hit the floor.

  
  


BB-8 watched him, silent.

✧✧✧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting next chapter now too.


	45. burnt out

✧✧✧

Something was shaking him.

No, _someone_.

He opened his eyes, blinking blearily. The sunlight was harsh, making him want to curl up again and close his eyes. So he did. His throat felt thick, it was hard to swallow.

But the hand on his arm was insistent, so he opened his eyes again.

Pale-tan skin and light brown hair. A tattoo curling under one of the grey eyes. Blue armour.

Poe followed Penn’s gaze down. It was fixed on what Poe was holding. A silver Mandalorian helmet. 

Poe stared at it, before looking back up, at the grey eyes.

They were narrowed, glistening with something as they met his eyes for a second.

The hand pulled upwards and Poe stiffened, not wanting to move. But then there was a second hand on his other arm and he was dragged up to his feet. 

He’s almost thankful that the hands don't let go. They stay, holding him up as his boots scuff into yellow sand.

BB-8 is already there, looking up at him. Still quiet.

He stumbles, the sand making it hard to put one foot in front of the other. But the hands are still there, keeping him upright.

Poe stands in silence as they come closer. He can’t look at them. He can’t. Maybe because of the sun burning into his eyes from above. Maybe because of the shame.

It’s no longer cold. But he still feels like shivering. It _should_ be cold.

He flinches slightly, blinking as wind peppers sand into his skin. His wrists sting.

They stop in front of him. But he still can't face them. Can’t look at them. The hands have let go of him now.

He sees it in the corner of his eye before it hits him. But he doesn’t shy away. 

The fist knocks him sideways too easily, and he collapses into the sand on all fours, gasping.

It’s almost satisfying.

He had thought he'd gone numb, but this made him feel something.

There’s a small cry from someone and he isn’t sure, but maybe someone was dragging Din backwards. Away from him.

He stays down as the helmet is picked up from next to him.

✧✧✧

When Poe lifts his head next, it's only Penn and Cara left. Penn is staring blankly at the horizon. 

But Cara meets his gaze.

Her face is tight but there’s no anger. She shifts closer and he has to look away again, studying the sand covering his fingers. It’s warm. Pleasantly warm. He hates it.

“You’re not angry.”

His voice is unrecognisable even to him. Just a hoarse whisper.

“No. I’m not.”

“Why? You should be.”

“I know you love her. But she loves- loved you too. And that scared me so much more.”

Her voice cracked, and she turned away.

His hands closed, clenching around the sand that was unfortunate enough to be under his palms. Anguish began to bubble up in him.

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” he croaked, pushing himself up.

He starts to shuffle back to the ramp, but the effort has his chest heaving and he falls back into the sand.

Only then he realises that he’s crying, choking on air. But his eyes are dry. They weren’t getting wet. No more tears left.

The same hands pull him back to his feet and begin guiding him up the ramp, walking him into the gallery. They sit him down onto the padded bench and a flask is pushed into his hands. 

He grasps it and begins drinking but splutters after a few gulps. He hadn't realised how thirsty he was.

“Whoa, slow down. You’ll throw up if you drink so fast.”

Penn holds the flask with him this time, making sure he doesn’t try to drink the whole thing in seconds.

Cara walks in then, and Poe focuses on her. Her eyes are red. She’s looking at the flask that he’s holding, with a small frown on her face. She sits down on his other side and draws one of his sleeves up very slightly.

Revealing his wrists. 

They’re covered in dried blood, but the cuts are unmistakable. Deep gouges into the sides of his hands. Where he tried to pull at his cuffs.

It was nothing. He didn’t know why Cara and Penn were looking so disturbed. This was _nothing_ compared to what they did to-

Penn moves for the large medkit that lay in the corner of the gallery and dumps the heavy pack onto the table. He fishes through it as Cara tugs on Poe’s jacket probing him to take it off. Then she rolls up his sleeves and they each take a wrist as he sags back and closes his eyes.

✧✧✧

They make sure he’s eaten and washed and awake enough to continue on. 

Cara pulls him into a long hug and it hurts his ribs, but he doesn’t bother saying anything. Penn had already left, carrying Avara’s things to her home. Her rifle had been slung over his shoulder.

“Poe,” she whispers as she pulls away, to look him in the eye. 

Again, he struggles with holding her gaze.

“You need to keep fighting. Ok? You can’t give up. You need to keep fighting,” she repeats. “For her.”

He nods slowly. It’s still hard to look her in the eye. 

Her words from before kept ringing through his head.

_“...she’s my kid. Don’t get her hurt.”  
  
_

And then he’s punching in the coordinates for D’Qar.

  
  


✧✧✧

  
  


Seeing Leia brings the tears up in his eyes before he can stop them. It was as if she was the key to the door holding everything inside.

He shuts his eyes, squeezing them as they sting furiously, desperately trying to will them away. He knows people in the room are staring.

An arm sweeps him through a doorway, into another room. The noise of a door closing sounds behind him.

But he keeps his eyes closed.

“Poe? Look at me.”

Her voice is gentle, as usual.

A hand squeezes his shoulder and he breaks. 

He knows Leia can feel it all. He doesn’t try to hold anything back. He lets it slam into him, lets it rip him to pieces like a wave breaking over and over and over on sharp rocks.

Poe doesn’t know how long the sobs have wracked him as he cried into his hands, when he slipped off the edge of the bench onto the floor, or when Leia left to get him water.

But when he looks up, heavy from exhaustion, there it was. 

A cup of water, just sitting on the table in front of him. 

The only indication that Leia is still there, is the pressure on his shoulder.

He reaches for it slowly, his hand shaking, bringing it to his lips to down in a few gulps.

He hates himself for wishing it was something stronger. Something that burned.

Neither of them talk for a long time. He doesn’t know how long.

But Leia knows now. He doesn’t have to say anything. 

  
  


The door opens and something small and round flies at Poe, pressing into his leg fiercely. 

He can see smiles beyond, on the faces of his squadron. But before he can quickly look away, he sees their expressions fall at the sight of him. It makes him wonder what he looked like.

He automatically lifts his hand to rest it on BB-8’s head, running a thumb along the ridges that are there.

The small compartment opens.

And Poe freezes, just staring at the disk inside for a second.

He plucks it out slowly, still staring.

All for this. This little disk. Seventy-six per cent full.

He turns his head, looking up at Leia, meeting her eyes for the first time. His neck is stiff.

And he holds up the data-disk.

She takes it, almost gingerly.

✧✧✧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. So, that's it for this part.  
> I have to thank everyone who actually read this whole thing, I don't think I would've continued on this for so long if I didn't know I had a few regular readers so thank you to everyone who subscribed, left a kudo or a comment. It was such a pleasure writing for you :) ❤️  
> \- Iye
> 
> [To the new readers who started this fic after July, thanks for giving this story a chance! Feel free to leave a comment :) don't worry that you can't comment on this just because I'm no longer updating this part. Part 3 of this series is currently being updated every few days!]

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [@triggerhappyflyboyy](https://triggerhappyflyboyy.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!


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